


American Trash

by minute0fdecay



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Dirty Talk, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Fake AH Crew, First Dates, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Description, Hand Jobs, Heavy Petting, Moral Ambiguity, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, References to Drugs, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Sexually Frustrated Middle Aged Men Trying To Flirt With Each Other, Smut, Violence, mentions of gunplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-13 13:03:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3382514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minute0fdecay/pseuds/minute0fdecay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan Haywood (well, that's his current alias) is a retired criminal mastermind who swaps murder for his own small mansion and a hot neighbour. The only thing he has to worry about is the journalism student next door who trips over his own feet. And the copycat who's reclaiming all his old glory. And keeping his associates under control.  But it's all worth it for the small mansion and the hot neighbour...<br/>___<br/>GTA AU ft Ramwood and sprinkling of Rayvin! And other fantastic things, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Chapter Where Ryan Retires

_Los Santos Police Department today released a statement announcing the abandonment of the search for the serial killer that in recent years has hunted and petrified the city of Los Santos._

_The search, that has been ongoing for a month, has uncovered no leads and has been seen as “a waste of public funding” by politicians. Although the Police Chief was insistent that they would not drop the case entirely, police attention needs to be refocused, rather than solely on the unknown criminal, nicknamed “The LS Reaper”. Figures show that there has been a 100% increase in street crime due to the lack of attention from the authorities._

_This has been the longest downtime for the LS Reaper who often strikes once every fortnight. Police authorities have taken this silence as a sign that either the Reaper has given up his criminal lifestyle, has moved, or has died or been killed._

_The public are reminded of his vague description and to keep it in mind if they see such a person involved in suspicious activity. Approximately 6”1, muscular build-_

He picked up the TV remote and switched his new, 52” television off. The news report disappeared with a flicker. He tossed the remote onto the sofa, and fixed himself something to drink. He tucked a cigarette behind his ear as he tipped ice into a whiskey glass, filling the glass three quarters full with the amber liquid. The drink cool in his hand, he stepped out his balcony, soaking up the Los Santos sun. He’d treated himself. He was putting up here for potentially forever. He had the money. He might as well have done.

Ryan picked up an ashtray off his patio table and carried in his spare hand to the poolside, where he sat, allowing his feet to sink into the blue water of his new swimming pool. He took the cigarette from behind his ear. He lit it with his favourite lighter (he’d lit many newsworthy fires with it), took a long, deserved drag and allowed the nicotine to addle his brain, allowing his head to spin a little as he exhaled, the smoke forming pretty swirls in the air. He tapped the ash off into the ashtray as he took a sip of his drink.

He was glad they’d given up the search. At long last. Finally, he could live in his mini-mansion in peace. He’d moved in about a week ago, moving from bedsit to bedsit over the previous last six weeks as he went about the process of burning his aliases. He’d saved the one he was using now for this exact circumstance. It was a name that wouldn’t cause his mind to fracture, one he couldn’t forget. Often with his more made-up names, he’d forget who he was, letting slip that he was something of a delinquent and often had to take out anyone with such damaging information. He never liked doing that. Unplanned murder. It was such a shame. But he had to protect himself somehow.

But now, he had a name that would stick with him. His middle name, and his mother’s maiden name. Ryan Haywood. Nice and plain. Didn’t scream “mass murderer” if anyone saw his driver’s licence. His intel guy, Jack, had done a sterling job of removing any trace of any of his previous lives, and had made Ryan Haywood come into existence before he “officially” existed. If one were to look at the ownership records of the house he currently owned, Ryan Haywood was a computer programmer and software designer, and had lived in that particular house for the last ten years, applying for extensions every few years but always getting turned down because of the neighbours. He’d been able to go out and do shopping, and be a part of normal human society, and not one person apart from his small team, scattered around Los Santos and San Andreas, knew that he had taken nearly a hundred lives just for fun.

He’d quit after a close brush with the police. He’d let his success get to his head and had become a little cocky, leading to stupid mistakes being made as he escaped from the scene of his crime. He’d tried to take down a coach that operated celebrity tours, and therefore pulled in A LOT of money. Jack had told him to take a specific route to the safehouse but instead, high off the kill and nearly a grand jangling around in his pocket, he felt invincible and took a completely different route. He’d driven into a police roadblock and had somehow managed to escape and retreat underground, but the encounter had shaken him to the point where he had decided enough was enough. What if his cockiness ended up with him being imprisoned and on Death Row? He didn’t trust himself not to get cocky – he felt a surge of pride whenever his crimes were breaking news on every webpage that concerned themselves with news – but he decided to quit while he was ahead.

So he moved to the upper-class suburbs. He deserved a little luxury and had spent his well-earned cash on a three bedroom house with a courtyard and a pool and a spacious back yard and a view over the city. It was tranquil, knowing that he was safe. He was sure that he’d be able to drop his habits. Maybe he’d satiate them by going hunting or something, but that was something to worry about when they started kicking in. He’d destroyed everything about his old life, apart from his mask, his jacket, and a couple of guns that he kept under his bed. No harm in being vigilant, he told himself.

He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and finished up his drink. Feeling a little more alive, he stood up to get the bottle from the kitchen.

“Hey, neighbour!”

He looked over to where the voice came from and saw a man, leaning over the sandstone wall that separated his backyard from his neighbour’s. He lived on the end of the street, so only had one neighbour, thank god. He’d never really been a neighbourly person.

“Uh… hey.” He said to the guy leaning over the wall. He noticed he had a glass of whiskey too, and was probably enjoying the afternoon sunshine as Ryan had been.

“You drinking?” he asked, somewhat stupidly.

“Yeah…” Ryan replied, not sure how to come across as friendly. He did want to be friendly, and quite liked the idea of being buddies with the neighbour, but he’d never done it before and didn’t really know how.

“Whiskey and a smoke, the best way to spend a beautiful afternoon like this,” the man said, his voice upbeat, a grin across his face. He had tattooed hands and arms, and if Ryan got a glimpse of anything else other than his arms, hands, shoulders and head, he would guess it would be covered in tattoos too.

“Sure is,” Ryan agreed, raising his empty glass a little.

“You’re new, right?”

Ryan nodded.

“Whaddaya say to your new neighbour coming over to drink the rest of the day away? I’d offer for you to come here but my lodger is busy working and I wouldn’t wanna disturb the kid.”

What could go wrong? The guy seemed pretty cool, and Ryan was pretty sure he _could_ act like a civilised member of society and not panic too much.

“Sounds great!”

The man jumped over the wall, the glass still firmly in his hand and walked over to Ryan. Not much respect for private property, apparently, Ryan though. Hopefully that wouldn’t be a problem.

He extended his hand.

“I’m Geoff, by the way. You?”

“Ryan,” he replied, taking Geoff’s hand and giving it a firm shake. Geoff was just in his swimming trunks and Ryan was right, his body was a canvas all over. He had a pretty impressive moustache, one that one typically saw on cartoon super villains, or the Monopoly man.

***

The sun was going down at around 7pm and Geoff and Ryan had worked their way through two rather large bottles of whiskey. They weren’t hammered, definitely not to the point of blackout drunk, but both were chuckling heartily at each other’s jokes and anecdotes.

When the sun finally went down, Geoff checked his watch and announced he needed to get home.

“My lodger’s a student. Which means he can’t cook, and even tipsy me can cook better than him. I used to be a chef, y’know.”

Ryan nodded impressively, running through the list of takeaways that he could use for tonight’s dinner.

Geoff jumped over the wall again to return home, one of his flipflops falling off as he jumped to the other side. Ryan threw it over, giggling like a kid as Geoff waved as he stepped inside his own house.

Ryan hadn’t had a good time like that in a while. Maybe he’d be a good neighbour, maybe the suburban life was something for him. He tried to fight off the thought that he’d get bored eventually. He wasn’t bored yet. He didn’t need to think of that.

He was technically retired, and people knew that retired people didn’t do things. He didn’t do crosswords or Sudoku or gardening – although he would give it a try. Eventually he’d have to do something fun, something productive, and he only hoped that when that time came, he wouldn’t revert into old habits.

The ten o’clock news was a repeat of this afternoon’s bulletin, and the confirmation was almost like a lullaby, sending him into a soft sleep. He still hadn’t decided which one of his three bedrooms was to be his, so he was trying each one in rotation. They were all pretty comfy.

***

Out in a bedsit in Los Santos, Jack Pattillo fell asleep, knowing he’d done his boss proud, he’d done a job well done. Reap had promised to wire him some cash once he felt sure he was safe and his boss never lied. Maybe tomorrow he’d go out and buy some new clothes. Or a new TV. He’d treat himself for sure.


	2. The Chapter Where They Get High

One of the unexpected pros of being retired, Ryan discovered, was that there was no “getting up” time. If he wanted to lie, spread-eagled on the bed, completely naked, under the cool duvet, he could, and no one would judge him. He’d smile into the pillow as he allowed himself to stretch out, feeling the soft material covering him and supporting him lull him back to sleep. Every day was like a lazy Sunday. He was sure that he’d tire of it eventually, but for now, he loved it. Drifting in and out of sleep, knowing there was no risk of being caught. It was absolute bliss.

At around 10am he heard the soft crunch of tires on gravel as his neighbour left for work. He never found out what Geoff did for a living presently – he used to be a chef and a photographer. He didn’t find out anything about his mystery lodger either. He’d find out in due course, he assured himself.

He finally prised himself out of bed at around 12:30pm, fixing himself a breakfast of pancakes, bacon, whiskey and a couple of Redwood cigarettes. He was a grown-ass man, he could drink whiskey at 12:30 if he wanted to.

He immersed himself in a book for the next few hours, lounging by the pool in only his swimming trunks, something he’d never done before. He’d take a break every now and then when he grew sticky and sweaty from the heat of the sun and do a few lengths of the pool, before drying off and returning to his book. He loved books. Books had been there in his childhood when no-one else was; books had made him smart and clever and cunning and a perfect story-book villain but without the sticky end. He owed everything, the good and the bad, to books.

He was interrupted at 4pm when he heard his doorbell chime. Instinctually, a flash of panic came and went, as he waited for the doorbell to chime again. One chime he could ignore, two chimes he couldn’t. As the buzzer rang out again, he reluctantly got up from his seat and went to the door.

He checked the fisheye first. If it was the cops, he could run. One of the reasons he’d chosen this place to retire to was that if, in the worst case scenario, he was found, he had a good escape route. Sure, he wouldn’t want to flee in just his swimming shorts and a plaid t-shirt he hadn’t buttoned up for the sake of modesty, but he would. He saw too figures stood on his doorstep and recognised them easily. He slid the chain latch to the end so that he could open the door a fraction. The two guys weren’t anything to be feared, but he had to be sure.

“Were you followed?” Ryan asked, quietly.

                “Nope. We had a clean run,” replied a deep, but friendly voice. “We were vigilant.”

                “How did you find me?”

                “You wired that money. You routed your IP through a server in Canada, and I know that’s about as technical as you get. You know I like to keep tabs on you, boss.”

                “Don’t call him boss, he’s retired now.” Said the other figure. “Are we allowed to use your current alias?”

                “Sure,” Ryan said, happy with their answers and opening the door to let them in. “It’s not an alias. It’s technically my name.”

                “Yeah, just like your other ten drivers licences had your actual name on.”

                Jack and Ray entered his house. They looked around the place, gobsmacked at how up-market their former boss now was.

Jack was a large, bearded and intimidating man, but had a heart of gold. He was the brains behind anything technical or complex that Ryan needed to achieve. Ryan could route his IP through foreign servers, that was about it. He always routed through Canada, because if the police wormed that information out, they would think that he had relocated to Canada. If he tried pinging between servers in the Eastern European countries, Asia and anywhere and everywhere, he would clearly be trying to hide something. Hiding in plain sight. Sort of.

Jack was a sought after technician who had people bidding for him and his services. Ryan wasn’t sure who he was working for now that he was off the scene, but he would never just finish his connection with Jack. They were close friends, and neither would be where they were presently without the other.

Ray was a completely different story. He wasn’t necessarily a criminal genius but he was good at his job, which was growing and selling weed. Ryan had met him on the streets and helped him cultivate his first ever plant and had given him the knowhow and some of the money to set up a decent weed farm. It was currently the biggest illegal operation running in Los Santos. Ray was rolling in cash and always gave Ryan a monthly cut (of both cash and weed) as a thank-you for getting his business off the ground. He’d tell Ryan that it was thanks to him that he wasn’t dead and that he owed his livelihood to the guy. He now employed ten people. He never faced any competition. If a threat ever came up, he got Ryan to deal with it, quickly and tidily. There were never any bodies.

Ray threw a package, tightly wrapped in clingfilm to Ryan who caught it one handed and grinned.

“Thanks man. I was wondering how I’d get my share now that I’m up here.”

“If anything, I pride myself on customer service,” Ray said, smiling. “Door-to-door delivery, how about that, huh?”

Ryan smiled in return and opened a corner of the packet. Clumps of green leaves tumbled onto the table.

“You guys got any baccy? I’ve just been on the straights since I’ve been out of the game.”

The three caught up as they rolled together, Ryan’s hands a little clumsy just because he had been out of practice. Ray snorted as Ryan spilled his mix over the table and tried to scoop it back up. Ray’s rolling skill was natural to him, as natural as breathing. He helped Ryan out and they headed out to Ryan’s patio, joints and drinks (that Ryan had fixed them as Ray rolled for him) in hand, the gear sealed back up and under Ryan’s arm. It was always a good time whenever Ray and Jack showed up, and Ryan was ready to have a good time.

***

The familiar sound of a car rolling into Geoff’s driveway pierced the relatively relaxed atmosphere an hour later. Geoff’s garage was on the side of his house that wasn’t connected to Ryan’s, so he didn’t see him leave and enter unless Geoff made an effort to go to the other side of the house. He’d come over a few times, and Ryan had been and seen his house a day earlier, so there was a chance that Geoff would come and see what he was up to. He was aware that Geoff might not be into the whole dope-smoking thing, but he didn’t think it too likely of a man who could drink an entire bottle of whiskey as if it were water.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Geoff’s tattooed arms were slung over the wall, his friendly face peering over.

“You having a party, Haywood? And you didn’t invite me?”

“Hey man, come over!” Ryan said. He was in a good mood. Jack had found Ryan’s rum stash and had gone out to get some pineapple juice to show them “the best combination that would ever grace your tastebuds” and goddamnit Jack was right. It suited the glorious weather and that had put Ryan in a fantastic mood.

“Well, it is the weekend.” Geoff said, grinning. “I’ll be two minutes and I’ll be over.”

“Bring your mystery housemate!” Ryan yelled after him. He wasn’t sure if he heard him.

Sure enough, two minutes later, Geoff jumped over his wall in his usual attire, which was just some shorts. After he’d landed safely, he turned around to help, what Ryan assumed to be the housemate, over the wall.

“Ryan, this is Gavin. He lives with me.”

“Hi,” Gavin said quietly, raising his hand. “You are?”

“Ryan,” he said, getting up and extending his hand, “nice to meet you.”

Introductions were made, and Ryan quizzed Gavin about his accent and Gavin explained the whole story (he’d come over on an exchange programme but had forgotten to sort out his accommodation, resulting in him moving in with Geoff – who was an English tutor at the university) and Ryan introduced them to Jack and Ray (both of them were colleagues of Ryan’s) and they resumed the drinking.

“So Gavin, what’re you studying?” Ryan asked as he settled down in his lounge chair, Gavin sat beside him.

“Journalism. More specifically crime journalism,” Gavin replied enthusiastically. “Geoff missed out the part where I quit uni in England to stay over here full time.”

“Oh nice!” Ryan said, trying to stay calm, knowing where this conversation was going. “Anything that interests you particularly?”

“The Reaper,” Gavin said casually. “He – or she – is really fascinating and the Holy Grail of crime journalism if you ask me.”

Ryan raised his eyebrows and sipped his drink. Stay calm, he told himself. Stay calm. He can’t be a plant. He tripped up over his own feet on his way over to Ryan.

“Interesting.” Ryan picked up a joint and took a hit. He passed it to Gavin. “You smoke, kid?”

“Nah. I don’t like messing with stuff that alters my head.” He took a sip from his beer. Geoff had bought a couple of cases over.

“You’re drinking beer.” Ryan pointed out.

“Well, yeah. It’s beer, innit? Just beer.”

Ryan chuckled and took another hit and passed it to Geoff who was standing behind Ryan, hands pressed on the top of Ryan’s lounger. Ryan looked up at Geoff and smiled as he passed the joint.

“Naughty university tutor,” Ryan remarked as Geoff took a drag. “You’ll be a bad influence on the kids.”

Geoff smirked down at him. “You love it.” He winked. Something stirred in Ryan’s stomach. “Hey, Ryan, I was thinking-“

“Yeah?”

“Well, as Gavin can attest to, I am a barbeque king, and I was thinking, the guys who live along here, they’re all fantastic people who would totally be into this shit and maybe, if it’s fine with you, you could get to know the guys while I cook us up something to good? Nothing like a beer, meat and drugs to kick start your weekend, eh?”

Ryan liked the idea. He liked it a lot. As soon as he agreed Geoff was out getting the neighbours round while Gavin sorted out the barbeque, forgetting that he was able to access the house the conventional way and instead opting for the “over the wall” option. Which was fine for going back to his house, but got a little more complicated when he tried to haul a heavy gas barbeque over. Which was an issue enough when sober, but was twice as hard when slightly “bevved” as Gavin liked to call it. Ray went over and helped him, the two giggling and sharing secret touches all the while. Previously, Ray had been lying lazily on a lilo Gavin had bought over (“it’s technically a pool party, right?”), smoking a joint while Gavin tried desperately to climb on with him, almost as if he were begging for attention.They seemed very sweet on eachother. Ryan made a mental note to close all his bedroom doors.

***

Geoff was right, his extended neighbours were all pretty cool too. Next door to Geoff lived Burnie and Ashley, two admins who worked at the same university as Geoff. Burnie did a little voice-acting on the side for a small online series and Ashley was desperately trying to get a job as a news reporter. After them were Jeremy and Matt who were supposedly two college kids, but in reality they’d spent their trust funds on dope and a nice house. They both worked in a game store in the city and fit right in to Ryan’s personal comfort zone. After them was Joel, a stockbroker who’d had incredible luck in his career and claimed that he had enough cash to gold-plate his gold, something he’d tried to do when drunk. Ryan met others – Gus and Esther, Miles and Arryn, and a nice girl named Barbara who could apparently only speak in puns.

For once in his life, Ryan felt like he fit in. Sure, maybe the dope everyone was smoking (he was surprised at how many people had come over with their own supply) was putting everyone in a better mood, but for the first time in a long time, Ryan felt comfortable. Genuinely comfortable. He was laughing and not because he was nervous. He was getting on with people, clinking beers and doing shots of tequila with people and not as some kind of ruse. Geoff really was a barbeque king and by the end of the night – which was the early morning – he genuinely felt as if he was the happiest he’d ever been. He and Geoff gotten particularly close, jokingly slow-dancing to some song in the background and muttering cringy flirtations in eachothers ears. This tension was something new to Ryan, but he liked it. He could tell his breath so hot on Geoff’s neck was doing something, but Geoff could probably tell that his similar actions were having similar effects. Ryan walked Geoff home (“it’s only a few feet away, but I’m nothing if not a gentleman”) and Geoff promised to come round the next day to help Ryan tidy up.

Everyone had left apart from Jack and Ray, or so Ryan thought.

He checked on Jack before turning himself in for bed. He was fine, snoring away. Ryan had put a bucket by his bed just in case, but he knew Jack well enough to know that he was not one to be sick after a night out.

He then went to check Ray. He opened the door a little before immediately shutting the door again – all he needed to see was a naked Gavin sat on top of an equally naked Ray to know that the two needed privacy.

It looked like it had been a good night for everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh this was really fun to write. I have such a love for gta ramwood. I can't wait to write more of this eeehehahaha. If you want, leave your feedback, I love hearing from you guys <3


	3. The Chapter Where Michael Has A Plan

Michael Jones was stood by his stove checking his phone. He was absentmindedly stirring a pot on the hob, heating up some kind of packet soup for his wife. He was scrolling through his phone, looking up old Reaper cases. It was interesting – the dude made so much money from being a complete dick – murdering so many people – and he just threw it away like it was nothing. He was jealous.

“Hey Linds?” Michael said, tipping the soup into a bowl and passing it to Lindsay. She was in her work uniform – she was night security at the nearby hospital. It was 7pm and she went to work at 8pm, to work through til 8am.

“Yeah?” she replied, taking the soup graciously.

“You know this Reaper guy?”

“The guy they’ve given up on?”

“That’s the guy.” Michael hesitated before resuming his conversation. He wasn’t really sure what he wanted to say. “If I’ve done the math right in my head – and on my calculator – the dude made like, three million, and not even through big scores. Those small ones add up too. Seems like an easy way to make money, right?”

“Um, if you call going into hiding easy, but sure.”

Michael hesitated. He didn’t wasn’t getting ideas, per se, but something had sparked in him.

“The dude just fuckin – chickened out – like, he had this legacy and just fucking ran for the hills with all this cash, like a fuckin’ coward.”

“What are you getting at, Michael?”

“I’m just saying… if I did shit like that… if we had that much money… you could ditch the hospital job. I could quit at the hardware store. We could upgrade our place a little –“

“We’re not poor, Michael,” Lindsay interjected, “we’re not on the breadline. We just need to manage our money carefully-“

“But imagine not having to do that!” Michael said, grabbing her by the arms as she stood up. He looked his wife up and down and swept her fringe from her face and gazed into her eyes.

“When I married you I promised us – but mainly you – a really, really, fuckin awesome life. I’m happy – I’d be happy anywhere with you – but imagine us having more than a few hours a day together. Imagine not having to get up at stupid-o-clock to work jobs that we hate! If we had all that money we could just stay in bed all day and it would be so good! Just think about it, Linds!”

Lindsay wasn’t sure whether Michael was proposing they become a criminal duo or if he was just daydreaming enthusiastically. She hoped the latter… did she? She had always been attracted to badboy types.

“Think about what you’re saying Michael.” Lindsay said quietly.

Michael smiled at his wife, and moved his arms down to wrap around her waist, pulling her in.

“Imagine how good it’d be,” he said, peppering her neck with kisses, “just you and me, in bed, all day, not a care in the world.”

Lindsay took a sharp intake of breath, knowing this was not the time or the place to give in to Michael’s moves.

“Stay in bed with me,” Michael murmured, his voice low and somewhat whiney, “ditch work, call in sick.”

Lindsay didn’t want to, but she pushed her husband away slightly, her face flushed. He kissed him on the lips and smiled at him.

“One day, we’ll get to live that life. I’ve gotta get to work. I’ll see you in the morning, mmkay?”

Michael pouted and looked like a kid who had been denied chocolate. It was cute. Lindsay laughed.

“I love you, Michael. Don’t get any funny ideas. Unless I’m around.”

“Yes, boss.” Michael replied, sighing a little. “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLOT! CHARACTERS! FILLER FILLER CHICKEN DINNER!


	4. The Chapter Where Geoff Falls

“Morning, Gavin.”

Ryan was sat at his breakfast bar sipping coffee as the embarrassed looking Brit scuttled out of his house. He didn’t say anything in response to Ryan. Ryan rolled his eyes.

It wasn’t until Ray wandered out a few minutes later looking particularly smug, that Ryan realised that his position could have been compromised. Ray was a good kid and would never blab but Ryan had never, in all the time that he had known him, known how trustworthy he could be if seduced. A seed of paranoia was planted in Ryan’s mind. What if Gavin was really a police insider? What if he’d used a blowjob as leverage to get information on Ryan? He felt sick. He leapt to his feet and grabbed Ray by the strings of his hoodie and yanked him towards him. Ray’s breath smelt like weed, cheap beer and what Ryan assumed was dick, and he looked suitably terrified.

“What went on last night?” Ryan growled.

“We just fucked, alright? Nothing creepy!”

“Did you tell him anything? You were out of it last night, you could have said anything.”

“Dude,” Ray said, giggling, “You were the last thing on my mind when I was balls deep in Gavin. You jealous?”

“Don’t fucking test me, kid.” Ryan hissed, his gaze hardening, his teeth gritted. “Did you say anything? He’s a fucking crime journalist or something.”

Ray wiped the stupid smile off his face. He looked at Ryan, hoping to come across as respectful, but instead he came across as scared. He looked like a rabbit in the headlights.

“I didn’t say shit. I just told him I was an intern that you got on well with at the company, we both just happened to enjoy smoking dope. Jack and I got our stories straight. Both of us coworkers, I’m an intern, he’s just another IT drone.”

“Hey, drones have feelings,” Jack yawned, emerging himself from his room. “Thanks for letting us stay the night, Ry.”

Jack and Ray helped themselves to breakfast (after Ryan released Ray) and for a while Ryan enjoyed the company the two guys gave him. He almost didn’t want them to leave. When he remembered that Geoff would be round soon, he felt a little better.

“So, when you guys coming to visit next?” Ryan asked, as the two prepared to leave. Ray didn’t like leaving his employees in charge for too long and Jack had his other client to meet.

“You want us to visit again?” Jack asked, incredulously.

“Not like, every other day. Once a month or something. I had a great time last night. As did Ray.”

Ray gave Jack the thumbs up. Jack gave him the middle finger. “You guys were loud,” Jack said quietly, nose scrunching a little.

“Jack,” Ryan said, getting the conversation back on track, “I want you to keep tabs on me and whether there’s any heat. You can get me on my work cell if something urgent pops up. Otherwise, emails, or tell me when we meet up next.”

Jack saluted. “Sure thing, boss.”

“And Ray,” Ryan sighed, turning to Ray, “if you’re gonna be seeing Gavin again on occasions when it’s not an organised meet by me, keep your damn mouth shut. You’re loyal to me, and me only. If I even get the slightest sense of you blabbing, I’ll put the both of you in the ground. Understand?”

Ray nodded and gulped.

“Understood.”

“Good.” Ryan said happily. “I’ll see you guys in say, a month?”

The two guys agreed and they exchanged farewells. The house was quiet again, and Ryan lay on his sofa and took a second to breathe. It had been a very good night, but a potentially dangerous night for him in particular. He had faith in his colleagues. He hoped they wouldn’t prove him wrong.

Just as Ryan’s eyes were about to shut in exhaustion, he heard Geoff’s familiar knock on the door. He jumped up the let his neighbour in, to then collapse back onto the sofa. He looked at Geoff, who was still standing awkwardly in his lounge.

“Grab a pew,” he mumbled, motioning to the other two sofas in the room, “we’ve got no rush.”

Geoff sat down gingerly on the sofa and started wringing his hands. Noticing something was up, Ryan sat up on the sofa to seem more attentive.

“What’s up, man?”

“Ryan, I uh… I just wanted to apologise for last night.”

Ryan was confused.

“Apologise?”

“Yeah. I was kinda hitting on you and… Like, I don’t hit on people, I court, and it was pretty gross of me. I’m sorry if I creeped you out or something.”

Ryan laughed. “That? Hey, I was hitting on you back. We were both drunk. Honestly, it didn’t bother me at all. Honestly, that’s the first time anyone’s hit on me in a looong time. It was fun.”

“You sure?”

“Lighten up, damn dude!” Ryan replied. “It don’t bother me none. It was fun.”

Ryan hoped he hadn’t come across as too enthusiastic. He noticed the change in Geoff’s body language, telling him that Geoff felt a lot more comfortable. That had probably been weighing on his drunken mind. It had been on Ryan’s mind too, but in a much more pleasant way.

***

The last of the broken glass was swept up into a trash bag and with a sigh of relief, Geoff tied a knot in the top of it. It was the last bag of trash to throw out, and it had been a surprisingly rigorous task to clean Ryan’s house after last night’s antics. They had to use a sieve to get the roach and the cigarette butts out of the pool. Ryan had delegated the task of cleaning the room where Gavin and Ray had slept to Geoff, who came out retching and cursing Ryan for sending him in there without a pair of rubber gloves.

Together they threw the bags into the dumpster by Ryan’s garage. Ryan went into his garage to check exactly how much dope he had left (he kept it in an old paint tin, the scent threw people off), his memory having been too fuzzy the night before to take note. As he was doing that, Geoff walked around what he presumed was Ryan’s car – it was covered with a sheet and gave it an air of mystery.

“This your car?” Geoff asked, gesturing to the car-shaped lump taking up most of the space.

“Yep,” Ryan said, a small smile appearing. “I don’t drive much but I like to have her around.”

“Her, huh?” Geoff said, chuckling. “Must be dear. Can I have a look?”

Ryan gracefully took the sheet off the car, trying not to let his face show how smug and proud he was of his car. Underneath the sheet was a glorious, bright red Plymouth Superbird, with modded tires and some kind of DIY speaker system wired in. But apart from that, it’s original 70s beauty glowed in the garage, and it took Geoff a lot to stop his jaw from falling open.

“She’s pretty, ain’t she?” Ryan asked Geoff, his voice overflowing with pride, as if he was introducing Geoff to his firstborn daughter.

“Holy shit dude…” Geoff said, stunned. He wanted to run his hands over the smooth, shiny bonnet, but didn’t out of respect for the beauty stood in front of him. (The car’s pretty nice too, Geoff thought to himself).

“Fancy going for a spin?” Ryan asked, grinning, knowing what Geoff’s answer would be.

***

It was a pretty spectacular way to spend an afternoon.

Ryan had a wicked grin on his face the whole time he was driving, accompanied by excited laughter as they offroaded around Paleto Bay and Mount Chilead. The windows were rolled down, the wind making Ryan’s hair flap about nonsensically in the wind, but neither of them cared. Warm, fuzzy, heavy rock music surrounded them as the rubber hit the road. Geoff felt weightless as they made unlikely jumps, taking sharp turns that equalled in thrills to a white-knuckle roller coaster and taking empty roads at such speeds that it made Geoff feel as if he were flying. He couldn’t help but notice how focused and intense Ryan looked when driving – biting his lip as if to ground himself, the way his fingers touched the wheel only lightly to perform amazing stunts. He was a fantastic driver, and his arms and hands commanded the road in front of him. Geoff wasn’t sure if it was the intensity of the ride or the driver of the car that made his heart race, that made butterflies appear briefly in his stomach.

As Ryan drove, he tried not to concentrate on the gentleman sat next to him. He tried not to look at his wide eyes and the glow contained therein, or the way he looked at Ryan with admiration.

Being retired was fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the "warm fuzzy rock music" is depeche mode - nothing (headcleanr rock mix) and i highly suggest you drive at high speeds while listening to this... in safe situations!  
> again, thank you for reading and i hope you're enjoying! i am having a ton of fun writing this, the gta universe is fantastic inspo!


	5. The Chapter Where Gavin Has A Date

Ray sat nervously at his booked table, fiddling nervously with a napkin. It was only a pizza place, but he’d never been on a date before. He checked his phone for the time – 19:02. Gavin was two minutes late. Was he being stood up? He’d had all sorts of anxieties and had smoked a quick joint before getting to the place, that in itself being a point of anxiety. Did he want to keep a clear head? But then again it was the fucked up Ray that Gavin had slept with. Would Gavin want something past just a quick fuck and chuck? Did Gavin only play along with Ray’s date plans to pity him? It had been Ray who had thought about exchanging numbers. Maybe Gavin only agreed to that out of pity too.

Ray had already drank half of the complimentary water already. He’d arrived early, like his peers had always taught him – if you want something bad, you make every effort to make sure that you get it.

19:05. Oh fuck. Gavin was definitely not-

Ray was so absorbed in his worries and phone, he hadn’t noticed a beaming Gavin sitting opposite him.

“I didn’t know you were the dating type, Ray.” Gavin said happily. Ray blushed and shrugged a little.

“Y’know. A one night stand is great, but why not make a crack at a more-than-one night stand?” he said, laughing. Gavin laughed gently, not as heartily as Ray would have liked him to. Too much?

“No, I’m glad we did this. The other night was fun.” Gavin said, being his turn to blush. “It’ll be nice to spend time together when we’re both relatively sober.”

Ray suddenly felt a little ashamed.        

“Not that I mind you smoking before this. If you were anything like me, you’d have been cacking yourself.” Gavin said, smiling at Ray, sensing his discomfort. Ray relaxed a little.

Gavin picked up a menu and opened it. He studied it closely for a few minutes, Ray having already decided what he was going to have in the minutes he had spent in the restaurant alone. He closed the menu with a snap and beamed up at Ray.

“I can’t decide which one to have, so I’m gonna order three and make some kind of mad pizza sandwich.” Gavin announced, looking pleased with himself.

***

Ryan looked at the message he had typed out ready to send.

_Hey, I’m free tonight and if you are, wanna hang out and crack open that dusty whiskey that’s lost its label? Could be fun._

It was such an unweighted text that Ryan knew that Geoff would definitely see the undertones of “I want to fuck you into my mattress.” Ryan and Geoff’s interactions were now basically constantly flirtatious, not necessarily with the intention of getting into one another’s pants, but just out of habit. He didn’t want to write “hey sexy” because even though that was their usual greeting, what if this one time Geoff took it as Ryan’s feelings towards him?

Well, I do think he’s sexy, Ryan thought to himself, but he didn’t want Geoff to know. He liked Geoff, he was a great neighbour beyond his fuckability and Ryan knew that if he had met Geoff in any other situation, in any other walk of life, they would still end up being close friends and calling eachother sexy out of habit.

He deleted the text from the character box and threw his phone aside. He didn’t want to seem to eager. He’d known Geoff for around two months by now. He’d been particularly struck by Geoff’s comment “I don’t hit on, I court.” Geoff had definitely been hitting on Ryan that night but had made no formal “courting” attempts since then. But he’s still been flirting with Ryan pretty constantly. Maybe he’d only said that to cover his own back, maybe to make himself seem uninterested. Because he wasn’t! It all made sense to Ryan now. Geoff had told Ryan to wait for behaviour that would never happen in a genius attempt to let him down gently.

Ryan decided to crack open the dusty whiskey that had lost his label and drank it by himself.

***

“So how exactly do you know Ryan then?” Gavin asked, a mouthful of two different types of pizza. The third hadn’t arrived yet.

“I just used to work for him. He set me up a bit. I wish it was more exciting.” Ray admitted.

“Work _for_ him? Set you up?” Gavin asked. “Were you like an understudy or something?”

Ray gulped, realising his mistake.

“Uh… Sorta. I mean I worked _with_ him mostly, but I suppose he taught me his forte and then gave me tasks to do. So I sorta became knowledgeable in his speciality. I still work there, of course.” He had no idea where “there” was.

“Right…” Gavin said, voice trailing off. He looked at Ray’s plate. “I think that might be one of my pizzas? It’s one I ordered and I haven’t had mine yet.”

It was. But it was a nice pizza and, having slight social anxiety only realised that it was after he’d taken a bite. He was too embarrassed to hand a second hand pizza to Gavin.

“Nah,” Ray said, blushing. He was feeling a little light headed. The pizza situation and the slip of the tongue had made him feel a bit sick, not even because if he exposed Ryan he would surely be killed, but because he didn’t want to fuck things up with Gavin.

Thankfully Gavin was too busy arguing with a waitress to notice the colour drain from Ray’s face and his silence.

***

“I had fun tonight!” Gavin said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Ray had decided to pay for a taxi to take Gavin home. He, like the gentleman he was, walked Gavin to his door.

“It was great,” Ray said, blushing again. “Pretty great first date. Especially how you pissed the waitress off.”

Gavin laughed. “That was unexpected, but I’m glad it entertained you.”

Silence. But happy silence.

“I’ll call you?” Gavin suggested. Ray tried not to beam, but failed.

“Awesome.”

Ray stood on his tiptoes to kiss Gavin on the cheek, who went red from the touch and also tried not to beam.

***

Gavin lay in bed that night, thinking over what Ray had said. He’d been pretty skittish about the details of working for Ryan, how he’d set him up. He hadn’t even mentioned the company they’d worked for. Not like Gavin knew anyway, but it seemed pretty odd.

Checking the news on his phone, as he always did before bed, he read an article stating that the Reaper was supposedly still at large, but presumed dead due to the lack of criminal activity for three months. Again, was the description that had been hammered into every Los Santos citizen. Approximately six foot one, muscular build, early to mid thirties –

Immediately Ryan’s image popped into Gavin’s head. He felt uncomfortable. He was sure it couldn’t have been Ryan… but the description did match… and with Ray’s odd details tonight…

I’m just overthinking, Gavin told himself, pushing the thought the back of his mind. Ryan’s far too clueless to be a criminal.

***

Ryan was too lazy to go outside to smoke. He’d never put batteries in his smoke alarms. He sat, with his head in his hands, smoking his Redwoods one by one, sipping the banana-flavoured whiskey slowly and pensively.

How did he feel about Geoff? If Geoff was into him, would he want to have him as a partner, or would he just want a one-time thing?

He was interrupted from his thought process as his phone buzzed. He picked it up, his eyes taking a few seconds to adjust to the brightness of the screen.

_Hey, if you’re free, wanna hang out? I’ve got booze and video games, could be fun. Gavin’s puckered out after his date. You up for it?_

Ryan smiled to himself and got up off the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GEOFF AND RYAN JUST FUCK ALREADY  
> also first date rayvin is just the best.  
> thanks for reading, hope you're enjoying reading it as much as i'm enjoying writing it! love love <3


	6. The Chapter Where Michael Acts Out

Michael didn’t think himself as a criminal, but it a lucrative opportunity presented itself, then Michael would take it. Not necessarily big things – if someone left a wallet somewhere stupid in the store he worked at, then serves them right for being stupid! He’d swipe the wallet, hide it in his locker and well, that was that. If he was lucky, he’d score a hundred bucks, but most of the time it wasn’t even worth the hassle of unlocking his locker. People were smart these days, keeping their money on their cards, never keeping more physical cash on them than they needed. He couldn’t blame them, he did exactly the same.

In line for the ATM, Michael noticed the dude stood in front of him. He was famously titled “The Shortest Millionaire in Los Santos”, a real gambler on the stock market who always came up tops. He had shares in the big companies in the city and when a series of suspicious assassinations hit the city, he always seemed to do well from it. Despite this, he was still short, and it was rude of Michael _not_ to look over his shoulder as he entered his PIN number to withdraw cash. He felt excited. He could do what he’d been planning. The Reaper’s first kill had just been a carefully planned out attack on some business executive. Given him a flat tire and then approached as a helpful civilian, only then to bludgeon him to death with a tire iron and gain access to his bank account.

Michael was aware his moral compass was not the strongest, but the prospect of robbing and possibly killing someone didn’t even register. He thought of Lindsay, how she’d be asleep right now, getting ready for another long shift tonight. She hated her job. If Michael could pull this off – IF – she could leave it. He would stick with his job, just so that he didn’t look suspicious. He could do this.

PIN committed to memory, he accidentally followed the guy to his car and made a note of the licence plate on his phone, pretending to text.

He had no idea how he’d actually go about doing it – he hoped the car would still be in the parking lot of the company he worked at when he got off work – if that was the case, he could punch a hole in one of the tires, follow at a distance when the dude left, hope it was somewhere isolated when the tire finally gave out, and strike. It was a highly unlikely sequence of events, but it just might happen.

***

Michael gave up on the idea of slashing the tires in the parking lot. It was unpredictable, when the tire would give out. He’d figure something out. He was following the car slowly, hoping it would leave the city eventually. All the bigshot guys lived out in the country overlooking the city, he’d have to take some kind of isolated path eventually.

He was crawling along at a snail’s pace, trying not to draw attention to himself. He’d been following the car for about an hour, and it was just about to leave the city, to take a quiet route, up to the countryside. Michael’s heart was thumping in his chest. Was he really about to do this? He wanted to turn around and forget it, but he couldn’t. He had to do this. For Lindsay.

Eventually they were driving down a long, winding lane. There were barely any cars around. Michael took the opportunity. He sped up and bumped his car into the back of the car he was tailing. There was no damage, but he knew how these rich types liked to fleece money out of anyone and everyone. This’d teach him, Michael thought.

The car slowed to a halt and pulled up at the side of the road. Michael followed suit. The enraged man got out of his car and walked briskly to Michael’s side of the car. He got out, ready to face the man.

“What the hell man? Are you blind?”

“Sorry, man,” Michael said, pretending to act ashamed and embarrassed. “I was just really wanting to get home-“

“Home? You don’t look well off enough to live round these parts. What are you, a rent boy or something?”

Michael gritted his teeth. Hold it, he thought, in a few minutes you’ll be letting out your anger on this guy.

“I know I don’t look like much, b-but I work hard and –“

“Ugh, spare me the sob story,” the millionaire spat, “just give me your damn details. You’ll pay for this.”

“S-sure, I’ll just get my paperwork from the t-trunk,” Michael stammered, trying not to hide his grin as he opened the trunk, pulling out his glorious, shining, tire iron. He could be The Reaper now, and he wouldn’t chicken out. He’d see it through, he’d make that legacy, he’d live it. He’d be a legend.

The metal cold in his hand, he approached the man, who had his back turned.

“I don’t think I _am_ going to pay,” Michael said, dropping the stutter, his voice cracking from excitement and rage, “I think actually,  going to pay,” Michael said, dropping the stutter, his voice cracking from excitement and rage, “I think actually, _you_ are, for once in your tiny, miserable life.”

The guy barely had a chance to turn around before Michael swung the tire iron into his stupid head. The sound of metal on bone, the crunch, sent a shiver down Michael’s spine. Yeah, he could do this.

Now on the floor, the man reached up towards Michael, as if to beg for mercy.

“No.” Michael said, slamming his boot into the little guy’s face. God, that felt so good, he thought. He stepped back and continued to wail on him with the tire iron. The warm blood on his hands, the way the blood running down the metal contrasted so beautifully, the power he had… it was fantastic. He started cackling as he made sure that the twitching, bloody mess beneath him, would move no more.

After a few minutes, the guy was barely recognisable. His head was a flat, bloody, gory mess of blood and brain. Michael should have felt bad, but he didn’t. The blood on his hands was soothing, not scary. He wiped it off on the clothes of the corpse underneath him, as he pulled the wallet from the jacket of the deceased. He threw it up in the air and caught it with one hand, feeling fantastic. This leather wallet would take Lindsay out of a job she hated, and solve a lot of their problems. If he got home soon enough, Lindsay wouldn’t have to work tonight. He quickly tossed the body into the trunk of the victim’s car, as the Reaper did, and left the scene of the crime quickly. He sang to himself on the way home.

***

“Honey, I’m home!” Michael called as he entered his apartment. Lindsay was sat on the sofa eating her soup before work. He threw his work bag on the sofa next to her and smiled brightly at her.

“Someone’s chipper,” Lindsay said sulkily, “work’s just starting for some of us.”

“Oh no.” Michael said, trying to hide his excitement. “I’ve called the hospital and told them that you’re not gonna be in for a while. You’re sick. Sick as a dog.”

“What the hell, Michael?” Lindsay yelled, rising to her feet. “We need that money! I work my ass off for us, as do you, you can’t just blow me off like that!”

Michael smiled sweetly and pointed to the bag. Lindsay, still mad, picked it up and opened it. Michael loved the way her eyes opened wide, the grin spreading across her face was a sight to behold. She looked up at him excitedly.

“You did it? You actually did it?”

Michael nodded. Lindsay laughed loudly.

“You beautiful bastard!” She said, taking off her work tie and throwing it to the side enthusiastically.

“Bedroom, now.” She demanded.

“Yes, ma’am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boopadoopadoop graphic murder hooray!  
> again, thanks for all the love on this series so far :)


	7. The Chapter Where Ryan Worries

When Ryan saw in the national news that his alter ego The Reaper had appeared to make a comeback, he nearly passed out.

He had to sit down on his couch when he saw the headline on the free paper that the paperboy casually threw on his doorstep. _RETURN OF THE REAPER?_ Had certainly grabbed his attention, but as he read the detail, if felt as if he had gone back in time to his first big hit, his first kill.

Someone had recreated his first murder.

He suddenly felt out of control, as if he’d done something horribly wrong that he couldn’t put his finger on. His fingers trembled as he remembered his first time, how he’d beat the guy to death with a tire iron on a whim, basically, how he’d just left the body in the car and driven off as if it was nothing. The only thing this guy had done differently was apparently bumping the car off the road instead of posing as a helpful citizen wanting to help someone change a tire. The dude’s wallet had been stolen and about an hour later a lot of his money had been withdrawn from his account from an old ATM that didn’t have a surveillance camera attached, so they couldn’t find the culprit that easily. They police had regarded it as a financially motivated crime. Ryan’s first kill had been about spontaneity, not the money. But that, and the bumping the car thing, were the only things that didn’t match his own first hit. The papers hadn’t drawn that connection, and just assumed that any murder would be down to The Reaper, but suddenly Ryan felt as if his walls had eyes, and were watching his every move, and were going to betray him…

That night, The Reaper was the topic of choice for Ryan, Geoff and Gavin as they did what they usually did of an evening and caught up over the wall. Gavin would only be there for a bit, and when he left Geoff would usually hop over and the two of them would have a quick glass of whiskey and a smoke together. Every night the stays would get longer, and they would linger when Ryan would help Geoff over the wall, as if one of them was waiting for the other to kiss them, but that might have been Ryan’s over-eager imagination.

“You seem pretty freaked out, Ryan,” Gavin observed, having forgotten about his previous suspicions until he saw Ryan that evening. “You hiding something?” he asked, half jokingly, half wanting an answer that would kick start his journalism career.

“I just – where I grew up there was a lot of killing – I don’t wanna say I had a sob story childhood or anything but… it just bugs be out. Reminds me of being scared to walk to school by myself, y’know? It’s a part of my life I’d rather forget about.”

“Oh. Sorry…” Gavin said quietly, knowing he’d touched a nerve. He had, to an extent, but Ryan had exaggerated the truth a little to protect himself.

“Plus, it’s kinda fucking terrifying, right? If he’s back and hitting the rich guys? I mean, we don’t seem like the kinda rich guys he targets but… our houses say otherwise, right?”

Gavin left the conversation a little earlier than usual. He retreated to his room and decided to write down his thoughts. Yes, he’d touched a nerve when talking to Ryan, but there was still this odd feeling that Ryan was not quite what he seemed. A software designer was believable, but one who had enough money to retire at the age of 34? Really? It seemed pretty unlikely. Gavin made a note to subtly find out how Ryan made his millions.

He _did_ match the very vague description the police had put out. But then again, so did plenty of other people. Ryan, so far as Gavin knew, had spent most of his time alone, apart from Ray and Jack, and now himself, Geoff and the neighbours.

He didn’t usually automatically associate drug users with criminals but he did think it was strange for a computer programmer, nonetheless _three_ computer programmers, all seemingly having bonded over what was illegal drug use, it raised questions. But then again, Geoff was a respected English tutor who enjoyed a joint on the regular. If it was a slightly more serious drug, Gavin might have been more suspicious.

And then there was Ray, who had said he worked _for_ Ryan, although he came up with a very convincing story for why that could have been true. Maybe it was a slip of the tongue, a Freudian slip, maybe he and Ray had some sort of bizarre relationship that they didn’t want to elaborate on.

But he’d always assumed that killers had no heart, had no ability to feel, but it was clear that there was something going on between Ryan and Geoff, and since Ryan had moved in, Geoff had been a lot happier. He liked Ryan because of how happy he made Geoff, even if they hadn’t _done_ anything, the fact that Ryan merely existed had seemed to make Geoff’s life better. Geoff had been in shitty relationships and Ryan gave the impression that if he was to be-boyfriend Geoff he wouldn’t treat him badly. They were very sweet on each other, even if Ryan was a psychotic killer.

Gavin looked down at the notes he’d scribbled down and couldn’t really make sense of them, which wasn’t a promising quality in a journalist. He rubbed his eyes and closed the notebook. Too many crack theories whirring around in his head. He heard Geoff jump over the wall into Ryan’s yard as he settled into bed. He pretended he didn’t know about how Geoff felt about Ryan, but anyone who looked at the two of them together saw them as two dumb teenagers in love who were too scared to make a move. There had been a few more social gatherings where the two had been hanging off eachother and people such as Burnie and Barb had just told them to fuck already, but no, they insisted there was nothing going on there.

Gavin tried to push his thoughts to the back of his mind as he did before, but now they were a little harder to ignore.

***

“You don’t need to be so freaked out about this Reaper thing,” Geoff said, as he prepared to leap over the wall to return to his own home. “You got me to protect you. And Gavin, but he’s a little useless. But Burnie’s having a party tomorrow night, he told me to tell you. That might loosen you up a little.”

Ryan laughed and scratched the back of his neck. He blushed a little. The evening had been defined by Ryan’s anxiety, but Geoff was the best cure for anxiety.

“Thanks, man. I’ll be there.”

Geoff pulled him in for a hug and held him tightly, wanting to make all of Ryan’s hurt go away. Ryan never wanted Geoff to let go of him.

As they drew away, they looked at each other. Ryan smiled nervously at Geoff, and Geoff, who still had his hands on Ryan’s shoulder, bit his lip slightly. Ryan gulped. This was definitely a moment… should he… lean in and kiss him… was that what he wanted?

Just as Ryan was about to take the plunge, Geoff laughed, blushing.

“Hey… maybe tomorrow,” he chuckled, trying to diffuse the awkwardness.

Ryan felt a little disappointed.

“Yeah… maybe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will they, won't they? oh, i'm sure we know the answer to that question.


	8. The Chapter Where Ryan Pulls

The next day, Ryan had spent most of his time in contact with Jack, checking that his name was in no way connected to the goings on of the previous few days. He’d grilled Ray thoroughly, just in case he’d let something slip that somehow had led to the copycat murder. He insisted he’d remained silent, deciding not to tell Ryan of his slip of the tongue while out on his first date with Gavin. It hadn’t happened on following dates and Ray could only hope that Gavin had forgotten about it.

So when 8pm rolled around and Geoff and Ryan turned up at Burnie’s with cases full of beer and pockets full of weed, he couldn’t have been happier for the break from reality he’d get, at least for a few hours. He loved nothing more than just chilling out with Geoff, a cool beer in his hand and great conversation at every turn.

“Hey, you guys,” Burnie said happily, letting them into his house, the smell of barbeque making the place warm and inviting, “you guys banged yet?”

Ryan and Geoff blushed and laughed it off.

“Nah,” Ryan said dismissing the comment but suddenly noticing how close their hands were to touching. He’d like it if the next time they turned up to Burnie’s they’d be holding hands. Guh, shut up, he thought.

Burnie raised his eyebrows. “Tonight’s the night kids! I can feel it in the air.”

“Shut up,” Geoff mumbled, smirking at the ground. Maybe tonight was the night, he thought.

They walked through the house to where the party was getting started in Burnie’s yard. Matt and Jeremy were already there and high as fuck – but then again, they always were high as fuck. Barbara was guarding the barbeque while Burnie tended to something indoors and Joel was floating in an inflatable ring in the pool, with a beer in his hand and another beer in the cupholder. Either Gavin or Burnie had invited Ray along, because Ryan certainly hadn’t. Gavin was sat on Ray’s lap, checking his phone between taking sips of beer, and kissing Ray on the nose every so often. Ryan smiled at Ray’s happiness, but also knew he had the power to be able to expose him to the world. But he trusted Ray.

Jack turned up a few minutes later (“I hope you don’t mind me inviting him,” Burnie had said, “but you guys put on great impromptu parties yourselves, seemed rude not to invite the dude”). Ryan felt a little guilty for not inviting Jack himself, but Jack seemed not to care. They’d not spoken to each other for a while, in person, so it was nice to have a catch up.

***

A few hours into the party, Ryan went inside to roll up. Even the slightest breeze would fuck it all up for him, so he escaped into the kitchen briefly. The party was in full swing now, and showed no signs of slowing down with people still arriving. Ryan lived for nights like these.

As he leant on the counter to roll, he was suddenly aware of a presence behind him.

“Hey sexy,” he heard a familiar voice mutter.

He saw a tattooed hand grab the counter next to him. He smiled to himself. He was very aware of how close Geoff was to him, and it excited him a little.

Geoff bent forward a little to place his other hand on the other side of Ryan, his crotch lightly coming to rest on the curve of Ryan’s ass has he did so.

“Hey,” Ryan said a little breathily, unable to keep his excitement contained. His dick stirred a little – he hadn’t been so physically close to someone for a long time.

“So… tonight’s the night, huh?” Geoff breathed against Ryan’s neck. Ryan gulped. Geoff’s lips had only just brushed his skin, but it was enough to send a jolt down Ryan’s spine.

“I guess so-“ Ryan said, his breath hitching as Geoff moved one of his hands off the counter and onto Ryan’s thigh. He gave a gentle squeeze, and Ryan moaned embarrassingly. He was fully aware of what was going on now, and so was his dick.

Geoff lightly kissed Ryan’s neck as his hand moved up his thigh and gently slipped under the waistband of Ryan’s shorts. Ryan gasped at the feel of Geoff’s hand cupping his crotch through his boxers, and blushed at the feel of Geoff’s hardness against him.

“Is this okay?” Geoff asked, slipping the tips of his fingers under the hem of Ryan’s boxers, as if his hand was asking the question itself.

“Oh God, yes,” Ryan said.

He bit his lip as Geoff wrapped his hand around Ryan’s now fully hard cock, so as to stop another embarrassing noise from coming from his lips. He gave a few experimental tugs, and Ryan nodded in approval, willing him to keep going, despite knowing he was not going to last long.

He was also fully aware that they could get caught at any second, but that was part of the thrill. He supposed that was part of the draw in his previous line of work.

He tried to grind up against Geoff, to give the older man some satisfaction, some repayment for how good he was currently making Ryan feel, but his knees were too weak to do anything other than keep him standing.

“Geoff-“ Ryan gasped. It was quick, but as if Geoff knew, he bit into his neck softly as Ryan came, gently sucking at the tender skin, soothing him through his orgasm. It had been a long time since someone else had pulled an orgasm out of him, and it took a while for the stars to subside. Usually he was functioning normal pretty quickly after, but Geoff would have him so that he was unable to do anything for at least two minutes.

Once Ryan stood up fully and tucked himself back in, Geoff went to find something to wipe his hand on. Most of the result had ended up on Geoff’s hand, but some had gotten on Ryan. Geoff threw the now pretty disgusting teatowel to Ryan who cleaned himself up as best he could. With a flushed face he grinned at Geoff, the bulge in the other’s pants being rather obvious. Ryan moved as if to initiate something, but Geoff stuck his tongue out at him.

“Unlike some needy old men, I can wait,” he said, smirking. “But you can repay me later. Now roll up and let’s continue to get fucking baked.”

***

Geoff got pretty touchy feely when stoned. The whole time, they smoked together, Geoff would stroke Ryan’s arm, or something, which attracted the attention of other party visitors, who would raise their eyebrows at Ryan.

Ryan was lying down on a lounger when the party had cooled down. Geoff was straddling him as they passed a joint back and forth, smiling lazily at each other as they gave each other blowback. Geoff was subtly grinding on Ryan, who was pretty hard with Geoff sat on top of him. But Ryan still had to do something.

He placed his hand on the back of Geoff’s neck and pulled him down into a kiss. It was smoky, it was sloppy and it tasted of alcohol but Ryan loved it. Geoff had clearly been waiting for it, diving in with his tongue at his first opportunity. Ryan barely registered the wolf whistles and cheering erupting around them as their tongues lazily danced around each other. Geoff’s kiss became needy and as Ryan started to grind up against Geoff, they decided that maybe the others were happy to see them finally hook up (although they all seemed blissfully unaware of the kitchen handjob), but they probably wouldn’t want to see them fuck right there and then.

They pulled away and with wide eyes, gazed at each other. Geoff dismounted Ryan as if he read the other’s mind.

“You think you’re so good, Geoff?” Ryan said, grabbing his hand and leading them away from the party. “Let me show you what I can do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whistles happily*


	9. The Chapter Where Gavin Theorizes

Geoff woke up at around 12pm. He’d woken up at around 8am, as had Ryan, and they’d had sleepy morning sex before going to sleep again. Ryan was still asleep, facing away from Geoff, having fallen asleep wrapped around him a few hours ago. His shoulders rose and fell slowly, his light snores making Geoff smile.

He would have felt bad if he woke Ryan up, so decided to kiss the sleeping giant on the cheek before getting up to make the two of them some breakfast. But first, he needed his pants.

After Ryan had dragged them back to his and pounded Geoff into his mattress, they’d kept it together enough to put clothes back on. But now, Geoff was naked, the two of them being too tired to put pants back on after the morning’s session.

“Pants, pants, pants” Geoff whispered to himself, leaning over the side of the bed and moving his hand around on the floor in an attempt to find something to cover his modesty. The bed was warm – he didn’t want to leave it until he at least some kind of clothing on.

He had been slightly hungover when he’d woken up earlier but legend was right, orgasms really did cure headaches (or at least hangover headaches). He still felt tired and a little dehydrated, but it wasn’t one of those hangovers where you had to wear sunglasses all day.

He leaned a little further over the side of the bed to get more access to the floor. Chances were his pants had managed to get under the bed somehow. Slipping his hand underneath the material of the bed (the base was pretty close to the floor as his bed was one of those that had drawers built in underneath), he spread his hand out and started lightly patting the floor, hoping to come into contact with some form of material.

He froze when he felt the cool press of metal against his fingertips. Was that…? Ryan didn’t really strike him as the type of guy, but Ryan was full of surprises. Gently coaxing it out from under the bed, Geoff picked the pistol up and looked at it.

Ryan had been pretty panicky about the Reaper thing, but to go this far? Geoff was kinda shocked. Geoff popped out the barrel with a click –

Ryan sat bolt upright in bed, his face alert as if he had been awake for longer than 0.5 seconds. Without looking at Geoff, he pressed his palm against the tattooed man’s chest and pushed him down to the bed, almost as if he were protecting him from something. Without moving his head, he scrutinized the room from head to toe, his hand keeping Geoff pinned to the bed. It was only when Ryan decided that the room was danger-free, that he looked at Geoff, who was lying back on the bed, still naked, a confused expression on his face and stupidly holding a gun in his hand.

“Morning?” he asked, unaware of how exactly Ryan was feeling, his expressionless face revealing nothing.

“You?” Ryan asked, staring at Geoff. His upper lip twitched. The way he’d replied had been in an accusatory tone, as if Geoff had done something. Geoff was suddenly scared. Was Ryan genuinely on the defensive or was he a fantastic actor pulling a prank?

“Me?” Geoff replied, holding up his hands, surrendering to whatever it was Ryan was worried about. “I just found this under your bed looking for my pants. Did I startle you?”

Ryan didn’t reply immediately. His gaze softened as he looked at Geoff. Geoff could almost see the hamster running erratically in the wheel in his head. He was figuring something out in his head, slowly but surely. After a minute he took his hand off Geoff’s chest.

“You’re _not_ here to kill me?” Ryan asked, as if it were a perfectly normal question that people asked each other all the time.

“No?” Geoff replied, incredulously. “I’m just kinda shocked you’re the kind of person who keeps a gun under their bed. But then again I didn’t expect you to be the dope-smoking, dirty talking, well-endowed neighbour that you turned out to be.”

Ryan laughed and Geoff saw the tension leave his shoulders. He relaxed. He leaned over Geoff and kissed him.

“I’m sorry. I just like to be prepared.” He smiled sweetly down at Geoff. “Gimme the gun, sweetie,” Ryan said, in a soft, but demanding voice, a friendly but still quite intimidating face looking down on him. Geoff felt as if he had stumbled across something he shouldn’t have. But he did quite like being called sweetie.

***

Geoff rolled into his own home (not as if he had a long journey home) late afternoon. He came back to Gavin and Ray eating by the table in the kitchen. As soon as they saw Geoff come home, they smiled sneakily at him, wanting to know exactly what had happened that night, although they were both pretty sure they already knew.

“So, Geoff, how are _youuu?”_ Gavin asked in his most annoying tone of voice, a shit-eating grin spread across his face.

“I’m pretty good,” Geoff mumbled, trying not to smile like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“It’s about time you guys did it,” Gavin said, “you’ve been dancing around each other with hardons for the last few months.”

“I don’t think that’s a phrase, Gav,” Geoff laughed, unable to contain his laugher at the Brit’s comment.

“Sore? Or did you make Ryan sore?” Ray asked. Gavin snorted.

“I’m not going to answer that,” Geoff said, suddenly aware that the way he was walking suggested that he’d been fucked very hard in the ass.

He headed upstairs to run himself a bath, promising the two guys that he’d give them all the gory details when he felt a little more human. Geoff, unlike other nights in bed with guys, didn’t feel empty or hollow or slutty (he felt a little slutty, but for all the right reasons). The way things had been, and the talk they’d had in the morning before playing tonsil tennis suggested that, well, they might as well continue to be a thing.

“I like you in a ‘I want to fuck you’ way, but also in a ‘I want to cuddle you and watch movies with you and argue over grocery shopping with you’ kinda way,” Ryan had put it, to which Geoff admitted he felt the same.

After a hot bubble bath to soothe his aching muscles, he went downstairs to Gavin and Ray who were now sprawled out on the sofa together. The both of them sat up eagerly as soon as Geoff entered the room, who gave them both an unimpressed look.

“You’re like two gossipy old ladies.”

“What did he say?” Ray said to Gavin, sticking his tongue out at Geoff. Gavin tried to contain his laugher. After he got himself under control, he leaned forwards, elbows on knees, holding his head up on his hands. He grinned at Geoff. Geoff rolled his eyes, but smiled.

“Alright. We had a bit of sex.”

Gavin and Ray looked underwhelmed. Geoff wasn’t sure what exactly they wanted. A literal blow-by-blow description of the night? “Oh yeah, I started to suck him off but my teeth caught it a little bit and he hissed and told me to watch the teeth so then I did and then everything was okay?” He wasn’t going to give them that level of detail. And Geoff, in his defence, hadn’t blown many dudes before, and even then it had been years since he’d last had a dick in his mouth.

Gavin raised his eyebrow, a silent challenge to Geoff to reveal more.

“I don’t know what you want!” Geoff said exasperatedly. “We fucked, I gave him a hand in Burnie’s kitchen, that’s all there is to it!”

“You did _what?_ ” Ray asked, trying not to laugh. “You fuckin’ pulled him off in Burnie’s kitchen?”

Geoff blushed. _That_ bit had slipped out accidentally.

“Yeah.” He said in a small voice.

Gavin and Ray’s faces was a sight to behold as the two of them announced that they’d _eaten_ in that kitchen, you goddamn animal! Geoff felt pretty good about it, though.

The following questions were pretty standard (“Is he big?” “Yes, Gavin.” “Was he good?” “Very.” “You gonna do it again?” “Oh, definitely”) and when Gavin asked about anything weird that had happened, Geoff decided not to tell him about how he’d accidentally discovered he quite like being pinned to a bed and overpowered to a degree, he told him about the gun.

“He heard me pop out the barrel and freaked out. Like, went super defensive. When he saw it was me with the gun, he like, sort of turned on me. Asked if I was there to kill him. He loosened up after I explained and then he explained why the hell he had a gun under his bed. But then I found my pants and made him breakfast, and he’s been fine since.”

The thing with the gun had got Gavin thinking. It could all have been a series of very unfortunate coincidences, but in his mind, Ryan had more and more evidence against him. Gavin couldn’t shake the idea after hearing about the gun. He added it to his list of thoughts about Ryan as the Reaper, and once Ray had gone home, locked himself in his room and had a good, long think. What if Ryan was indeed a serial killer? He was actually a pretty nice guy, and was clearly making Geoff happy. As far as Gavin knew, he hadn’t committed any crimes since moving next door to them (apart from smoking weed, but basically everyone did that).

Geoff had cheered up so much since Ryan had become a part of his life. If he is the Reaper, Gavin thought, _if_ ¸ do I turn him in? Or do I leave it and trust that he’s turned over a new leaf, and keep that smile on Geoff’s face?

He fell asleep, the moral dilemma rattling around in his brain.


	10. The Chapter Where Things Are Steady

Ryan’s life became significantly less boring as soon as Geoff started spending weekends at his house.

They only really became a couple on the weekends – otherwise the only contact, physical at least, would be kisses over the wall after they’d spent an evening together. Geoff enjoyed his time with Ryan, but he enjoyed his time at work too, and he managed to keep an even balance.

Starting on Friday night, Geoff would come over after unpacking after work, and collapse on the sofa while Ryan made dinner. Geoff’s job took a lot out of him (which surprised Ryan, he didn’t expect a tutor job to be so exhausting) and on Fridays. Geoff allowed himself the rest he needed. He’d wake up before dinner, always timing his naps so that he didn’t feel horrible and groggy when he woke up. They’d eat, curl up on the sofa and play games or watch a movie or something, before heading to bed at a relatively early night. The only exception was if someone was throwing a party or something, otherwise, their Friday nights were pretty routine.

On Saturdays, neither of them woke up until after 11am. Ryan usually always woke up first and would get up to make breakfast for the both of them, the smell of bacon usually enticing Geoff to the kitchen about ten minutes later. After breakfast, they’d have a cup of coffee, still in their PJs, head back to the bedroom and make love, or fuck, depending on their mood. Sometimes Geoff would wake up horny, and push all the right buttons to make Ryan take control, to pin him to the mattress and growl obscenities. Sometimes Ryan would feel that too. Sometimes they’d wake up and just feel like experiencing each other. They just wanted to be close, physically and emotionally, and they’d take their time, with Ryan taking it slow, gazing lovingly into Geoff’s eyes, smiling down at him and pushing the hair back from his forehead to get a better view at his lover’s face. It’d lead to an incredible climax, one that had built up over the hour or so they’d spent exploring, one of anticipation, one that would make stars flash in one’s eyes. They rarely changed into actual clothes on Saturdays, taking it to true “lazy day” level.

On Sundays, they would usually go out for a drive in Ryan’s car, which still thrilled Geoff whenever he slid into the prestige leather seats. If it was a fine day they’d offroad and make stupid jumps that made Geoff nearly cry with fear and laughter, but if it was a little on the wet side, Ryan would show off his driving skills, cornering the damp tarmac with F1 driver skill. Geoff couldn’t believe Ryan was such a good driver. Ryan usually biked into town when he needed something, only taking big car if he was doing a big shop. On Sunday nights, Ryan would stay at Geoff’s and leave the next morning as Geoff left for work, the two of them ready for the week ahead.  Ryan had gotten back into reading since being retired – partially because he loved to read, partially because his boyfriend loved to read too.

All the worries Ryan had about being unable to control his murderous urges had disappeared since he and Geoff had become a thing. He’d never had someone to love before, and didn’t know what it was like to be loved. He felt fulfilled. He had the same feeling as when he’d pulled off a particularly complex hit, except it wasn’t a fleeting feeling, it lasted basically all the time. He could focus on Geoff and focus on being good to him without smothering him. Ryan hated to psychoanalyse himself, but perhaps his previous behaviour was a result of growing up in an abusive family, and continuing the behaviour that he had learned as a child as a method of satisfying the parent within him, because his upbringing had showed him that abusing would give him pleasure. Now, he was being shown love and was understanding that _true_ pleasure was in being loved and loving, and not slitting people’s throats or disembowelling rivals.

Maybe I need to see a therapist, Ryan told himself.

Meanwhile, Ray and Gavin were still going strong. When Geoff was at Ryan’s, he would take residence in Geoff’s for the weekend, as Gavin’s lovable, doped up partner. One time on a visit to pick up one of Geoff’s books while Geoff was still getting dressed, he had caught Ray hotboxing one of the empty closets. He failed to mention it to Geoff when he returned, but Geoff had never seemed annoyed with Ray since the incident, so he was probably okay with it.

Gavin was still suspicious of Ryan, but Ray was excellent at putting his mind at ease. Having confessed his worries to Ray one night, Ray had gone all therapist-esque on him and asked him questions about why he was worried about it rather than addressing the subject of Ryan. Ray was sure he’d be able to spin a rather elegant web of lies to keep the truth away from Gavin, but it wasn’t something he really wanted to do immediately after having sex. For now, Gavin’s suspicions had subsided.

***

On one of Ryan and Geoff’s Fridays when they’d gone out, they’d been given interesting information.

“Oh by the way, lovebirds-“ Burnie had said, a mouthful of burger that Geoff had cooked up on the barbeque, “there’s been some dude snooping around this row of houses this week. Not done anything, but he’s been checking out all of us. So make sure you’re not so balls-deep in each other that you don’t notice some dweeb breaking into your house. Oh and Geoff, if you’re gonna be with Ryan on weekends, tell Gavin to keep his eyes open. I’d tell him myself but I think he’s left with Ray to bang in some foliage somewhere.”

Ryan made a mental note of the mysterious shadow that had been scoping out their houses. He’d have to keep his eyes open. Best case scenario, it was Jack, or Caleb (who used to work for him, scouting out locations of targets beforehand), keeping close tabs on him. Worst case scenario, it was a cop who’d figured him out. Ryan would prefer it to be a rival than a cop. At least he could gut a rival, guilt free. But, since meeting Geoff, he preferred the Occam’s Razor explanation. It was probably some wannabe scoping out potential robbery targets. Although he was now aware, he shoved the worries aside and focussed on having a good time, his arm around Geoff’s waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> filler filler chicken dindins! i need more domestic fluff, i need to write more domestic fluff, the world needs more domestic fluff if you ask me.


	11. The Chapter Where Ryan Defends

Michael had been wandering aimlessly around the houses for a few weeks, hoping not to draw attention to himself. These houses mainly faced the view of the city, meaning that the back of the houses were the part that was attached to the road. Which meant that hopefully, Michael thought, that no one would notice the shadowy figure, chainsmoking as he walked up and down the street. He dropped his cigarette butts carelessly, not realising what damming evidence he could have been leaving behind.

The house at the end looked particularly promising. From what he could tell, it was just some guy who lived there by himself, occasionally the dude who looked like a street magician would go next door with some beers and not return for a while, and when he did, he looked positively scruffy and hurriedly dressed. The guy who lived by himself didn’t really leave the house very often, not like he had a job or anything. The other guy would leave at ten every day and return between six and ten, with his housemate? Boyfriend? In the car, which Michael assumed meant that the house was empty. Which made that particular house a very promising target, was it not for the other dude who lived next door, who went out sporadically and for varying lengths of time. With that in mind, Michael chose the classic “break in at night when everyone’s asleep” tactic, and if he was taking that route, it didn’t really matter which house he broke into. But the single guy, who lived in the house at the end of the row, appealed to Michael, for some reason.

The Reaper’s second hit was a similar job, attacking a small mansion and leaving with jewels and money and the owner in a coma. Michael wasn’t sure if the guy was alive and kicking. He didn’t know whether he’d leave the owner dead or alive. He’d decide during the heat of the moment. Maybe he’d kill if things went drastically wrong. If he could get in and out without too much fuss, then murder wasn’t really necessary. Maybe he’d wound. He only really had his tire iron and a baseball bat as a weapon, preferring the melee option to firearms, as The Reaper did in his early years of activity. Michael wasn’t directly _trying_ to be a copycat, but the way things were going, he saw himself turning into one. The scary part was that he didn’t mind.

***

It was one of those odd nights out of the week where Geoff had a particularly shitty day at work and wanted Ryan’s company throughout the night. Ryan normally wouldn’t mind sharing his bed with Geoff on a night that wasn’t designated as one of their own, but tonight he didn’t want to, but agreed anyway in an attempt not to upset Geoff further. He’d noticed the shadowy figure. He’d memorised the exact locations where his cigarette butts had been dropped. If there was going to be any gunfire, he didn’t want Geoff caught in the crossfire. If it was just some kid trying to find a big score, Ryan would scare him away, and maybe give him some friendly advice.

They ordered takeaway that night, neither of them too fussed about cooking. Contrary to their usual, they shared a bottle of wine over dinner, laughing at the crappy reality show that was on Ryan’s giant TV. This was what normal people do, Ryan thought. At long last, he was, if not actually a normal person, he was at least acting like one.

They went to bed pretty early, as Geoff still had to get to work in the morning. One of his colleagues was off sick for a few weeks and Geoff had accepted the burden of his work too, essentially doubling his workload. Which he didn’t mind, but he felt marking papers that weren’t from his own students uncomfortable. He had to continue the same the next day, but he would feel better after a night of slow kissing and Ryan’s arms wrapped around him.

Ryan on the other hand couldn’t relax to well. Usually the sound of Geoff’s light snoring, the rise and fall of his chest as he slept was enough to lull him to sleep, like a bizarre lullaby. But before bed, he’d had a peek at road and saw the shadowy figure. He couldn’t quite make out where he was looking, but it was enough to put him on edge. Part of what made him such a good criminal was knowing when something was going to strike. When the police were going to make a connection, when a rival was going to return to the city, whenever Ray’s business was threatened by a rival. He could eliminate any threats and worries. He could absolutely do it again, if this punk broke in, but he didn’t want to.

Because if he did that, he would stop being Ryan Haywood, and become The Reaper.

Was it worth it if it meant protecting Geoff?

He drifted into an uneasy sleep, the moral dilemma playing on his mind.

***

He was right. He woke, and sat bolt upright. Ryan was never one for being blurry-eyed in a time of need. The clock to his left flashed with 3:01 am. A time that was known amongst those in the know as the time when the majority of people were sound asleep. Not Ryan though. At the first tinkling of glass, he awoke and crept out of bed towards the source of the noise. For such a large, bulky guy, he had catlike stealth, something he was quite proud of.

He snuck into the living room, which was angled towards the patio but was able to be accessed by the road entrance. Ryan both loved and hated modern, open-plan architecture. Sure, the natural light was great, but the glass, the sheer amount of glass was just such an invitation for those who knew how to break glass without causing a fuss. The road side of the living room featured a window that displayed his whole living room to the world, unless he had the blinds closed, which he did every evening. Although he was putting himself at risk by exposing his stuff, he thought that consistently closed blinds was a sign of reclusiveness, something he was trying to shake off.

He watched the kid climb in through the window. The way he was moving his head around like a damn owl told Ryan that the kid didn’t really know what he was doing. He knew he was going to steal – he didn’t know _what_ he was going to steal. Rookie mistake. Ryan almost snorted. You needed to know, because then you could smash, grab, getaway. This guy was nothing to be worried about. If it was indeed a rival, then it must have been some sort of joke set up by one of his crew.

He watched as the figure made its way towards his TV cabinet. To be fair, it was probably the thing in the living room that was worth the most, his cabinet with the collections of video games. But there were plenty of houses, Ryan knew, along the road with things worth a lot more. Gold and jewels. If you looked in the right place you could get black market Xboxes for ten a penny, and no one was going to pay top dollar for a stolen one. Again, Ryan had to stop himself from tutting or sighing with amusement. This kid really didn’t know what he was doing.

He decided after a few minutes of watching the kid fumble around with his chosen goods that he’d put an end to all this. In a few slick movements, he’d maneuvered himself into a position where he had the kid in a headlock. The guy _hissed_ as he was caught, like a cat. Ryan used to use that tactic when he first started out, but quickly realised, as the kid would, that it would not scare attackers, just make them laugh.

“Listen here, kid,” Ryan growled, his grip tight around the kids head. “I admire your persistence. You think no one’s noticed you lurking around here? Dude, I live next to a bunch of fucking idiots when it comes to stuff like this, and even they noticed. But me? I’m a little different. I can take you outside and show you your cigarette butts and tell you when exactly you dropped em like a fool. You wanna be taken seriously in this business, kid? Don’t leave your freaking DNA all over a potential crime scene.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done!” Michael hissed, desperately trying to struggle out of Ryan’s grip, but ultimately failing. “I’m rising up the ranks!”

“I don’t care what you’ve done, if this is your first time robbing a place, you’ve done a shit job. Let me give you some advice, kid. Get someone else to do the dirty work, to work out the logistics. Because if you ever pull something off like this successfully, you’ve distributed the blame and the cause. You cover yourself.”

Ryan moved in a way that meant that now he had a grip on the back of Michael’s neck. He roughly held onto him, and started walking towards the door.

“You’re going to leave now, and you’re going to give me whatever is in your wallet to cover the damage you’ve done to my property.”

Michael fumbled around in his pocket and opened his wallet and handed Ryan the money. $200 hard earned dollars.

“Another mistake. Never take your wallet with you. Because you might run into guys like me.” Ryan spat, giving Michael a firm shake. Michael was positively quivering with fear.

“I-I-I’m sorry, m-man,” Michael spluttered, not believing just how badly his first robbery had gone. He’d expected maybe to be in a shootout, not to be downright humiliated by a middle-aged man in his boxers and an oversize t-shirt for pyjamas. “Are you gonna r-rat me out?”

Ryan’s gaze softened. “Not this time. I can tell you’re inexperienced. Start small. Only the good ones can pull this off so early in their career. 24 hour garages. Bungalows. Trailers. That sort of thing. Work your way up.”

Ryan opened the door and pushed Michael over the threshold. As he looked at the kid again, his face turned to steel again, a murderous glare in his eye.

“But I swear to God, if I see you around here again, I will rip your fucking throat out and feed it to you and put your head on a goddamn pike. Understand?”

Michael gulped and nodded, before fleeing from the scene. Humiliated and ashamed, he tried not to cry as he ran home to his wife.

Ryan closed the door quietly.

He turned around to see Geoff standing, arms crossed.

“We need to talk.”

***

It was Ryan’s turn to be red in the face.

“That isn’t someone protecting their boyfriend. That isn’t even someone protecting their million-dollar property… that’s the behaviour of a guy who’s… done some stuff.”

Geoff wasn’t angry, or even that quiet sort of disappointed. He was just quiet. Still sat next to Ryan, his hand gently placed on the others. A lot of things were falling into place for Geoff.

“Ryan… you need to tell me… who are you? When I ask about your work you can’t give me a convincing name for your alleged company. You just turned up out of nowhere… I’m not one for buying into Gavin’s crackpot, investigative journalism theories but he’s scared and… Ryan… this sounds ridiculous, but I want you to be honest with me… have you killed? Are you the Reaper?”

Ryan had always imagined this scenario involving a lot more shouting, a few police officers and at least three guns pointed at his head. He hadn’t expected it to be taking place in a dark bedroom, with his boyfriend, still holding his hand, asking calmly, as if he was asking about the time. He could deny everything and keep his relationship balanced on a shifting foundation of lies that would surely crumble eventually, or he could confess. He could lose Geoff and end up in prison and on Death Row… but he would die happy in the electric chair if he knew that Geoff had been the one to put him there. He imagined Geoff’s face looking at him, pale and ghastly from the viewing booth, as the black material was put over his head. But before that he’d smile. Not menacingly. Happily. He’d be happy that Geoff was there.

He took a breath.

“Yes. I am. I have killed, robbed, flung the city into panic. I am chaos.”

Ryan looked at the floor before daring to look up at Geoff.

Ryan couldn’t help but notice that Geoff’s hand was still holding Ryan’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been such a long time since the last update! I've been very busy at work, catching up on sleep and nearly dying of anaphylactic shock (which is basically swelling up like a balloon and not being able to breathe because of a reaction to an allergen). I'm super duper now, and I'll try to update more frequently from here on in! Again, I'd love to hear your feedback and I hope you're enjoying this series, because lemme tell you it is a hell of a lot of fun to write!


	12. The Chapter Where Geoff Accepts

Geoff got up off the bed and began to walk around, rubbing his eyes with his hand. He was tired, groggy and a little surprised – but not too surprised.

Ryan stayed seated.

“Are you going to have me arrested?” he asked quietly.

Geoff turned and looked at his boyfriend.

“That sounds like a not-so-thinly veiled threat.” He replied, chuckling lowly. Ryan’s face remained serious and withdrawn.

“It’s not. You are absolutely free to have me arrested. I can’t imagine a better way to go down.”

Another minute of silence where Geoff paced, while Ryan sat on the bed, elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together.

“I’m not going to tell anyone.” Geoff replied. Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“Do you believe me?”

“I had my suspicions, before I even heard Gavin’s. The whole episode with the gun. I believe you.”

“Cool,” Ryan replied, not really knowing what to say. He let silence fall again as Geoff continued pacing, biting his thumb. Ryan felt bad – not because he’d been found out, but because he’d put Geoff in an awkward situation. After another few minutes Geoff sat back down next to Ryan and looked at him dead in the eye.

“Can you promise me that The Reaper is gone?”

Ryan turned a little. He grabbed one of Geoff’s hands.

“He’s gone. I killed The Reaper a long time ago. The Reaper died the day I met you.”

“I wish I could believe you,” Geoff said in hush tones, “But how you just acted… how do you know he’s dead and gone?”

Ryan sighed. Geoff had a point. Ryan, in that moment, had let his past consume him. He’d stopped being the madly-in-love retiree and become his old self, threatening, confrontational, downright intimidating. He’d scared the life out of that kid and it didn’t even take any effort. It was second nature to him.

“I could say that I can forget about him with you here, but that puts you under pressure to be with me at all times. All I can say, Geoff, is that since I’ve been here, since I’ve had this other life, apart from tonight, my past self hasn’t come back to haunt me once. I was scared it would, but it was only when we were threatened, it decided to pop back up. So I implore you, Geoff, to believe me when I say that I am not the man you saw tonight. This is not a plea of innocence – it’s my pledge to you that I can still be the man that you fell for.”

Geoff rubbed his eyes again. He sighed, and looked back at Ryan.

“You can promise me that?”

Ryan nodded eagerly.

“You can promise me safety and security when I’m with you?”

“One hundred percent,” Ryan responded, without missing a beat.

“And you won’t snap and kill everyone in a fifteen mile radius?”

Ryan looked up at Geoff, turning on the puppy eyes and offered his little finger.

“Pinky promise?”

Geoff’s boyfriend may have been a murderous thug in a past life (that was very much a real life), but it didn’t stop him being ridiculous and cute simultaneously.

Geoff locked little fingers with Ryan and tried not to grin like an idiot.

***

After the two had been out for a smoke after the stress of the evening, they returned to the bedroom and sat down on the side again. Geoff still needed to ask some things.

“What about Gavin?”

Ryan bit his lip in concern. He hadn’t given the kid a thought in all of this. He’d find out eventually.

“I don’t want to have to threaten him,” Ryan said, “but a small threat might go a long way. Or go the wrong way and come back to severely bite me in the ass.”

Geoff looked at Ryan, an expression of surprise on his face.

“You’d threaten Gavin?”

Ryan furrowed his brow. “I wouldn’t want to.”

Geoff pushed his fringe back from his forehead in an act of exasperation.

“I could talk to him,” Geoff suggested, “the kid trusts me and if he does cotton on… I could keep him quiet… oh God, that sounds like I’m going to kill him, doesn’t it?” Geoff said, laughing a little. Ryan smiled. Geoff was so pretty when he smiled.

“What if he finds out and we find out that he knows before it’s too late?” Ryan asked. He was pretty sure Gavin wouldn’t be that tactical – during the first party that Ryan had hosted he’d counted the kid tripping over at least six different things, one of them being his own feet. But then he could maybe be physically clumsy, mentally tactile. Geoff didn’t have an answer.

“I could get Ray to break it to him?” Ryan suggested.

Geoff looked a little more hopeful.

“That could work. Gavin’s besotted with the guy. Not saying we should use Ray as a damage buffer but Gavin will listen to him. And it was Ray who first planted the seed of doubt in his mind, hearing it from him might make him feel like it all makes sense. Which is better… in a way?” Geoff responded.

“That sounds like a plan. We’ll figure out the kinks nearer to the time.”

Happy with the resolution, the two climbed back into bed, Geoff clinging on to Ryan for dear life. Geoff’s breath hot on Ryan’s neck was a sensation that Ryan was all too happy to indulge in. His breath hitched in his throat, and he hoped that Geoff didn’t hear. Ryan would be happy to participate in sex, but perhaps Geoff was still reeling from the revelation.

As he felt Geoff’s nose pressed against his neck, his lips skimming the skin of Ryan’s neck, Ryan knew that he hadn’t been as quiet as he liked and that Geoff wasn’t _too_ put off by the night’s events. Shifting down the bed slightly so that Geoff was positioned half-on top of him, he started to writhe and twist as Geoff started to softly kiss his neck, occasionally nipping at the sensitive skin, using his tongue to soothe any marks that he left. Ryan was good at being quiet, but his neck was his weak point, and Geoff knew how to make him squirm in all the right ways. He moaned quietly as the hand not holding the other side of Ryan’s neck, travelled down Ryan’s body and rested on the hardness quickly forming in Ryan’s boxers. In a few quick movements, the both of them were naked, and Geoff was in Ryan’s lap, leaning back on Ryan, who’d bought his legs up to meet Geoff’s back. It had gone from soft touches, to Geoff needily grinding down on Ryan, moaning like a bitch, hands wrapped around Ryan’s neck like it was some kind of stripper pole. Ryan indulged in the man in his lap, who so desperately wanted contact. He pulled Geoff in to kiss him, the contact between sweaty skin calling out to Ryan’s animalistic inner. He wanted to claw Geoff’s back while fucking up into him, growling obscenities into his skin, but he wasn’t sure if Geoff was into that. But maybe tonight would be the time to test the waters.

“Fuck me, Ryan,” Geoff moaned quietly, desperately clamouring for some touch. Ryan lowered his legs, leaving Geoff to stay sat up by himself.

“Prep yourself for me,” Ryan muttered, leaning over to his bedside table to pull out a bottle of lube to use for himself “I wanna see you stretch yourself for me.”

Geoff groaned like a pornstar as Ryan pulled one of Geoff’s hands and placed the index and middle finger into his mouth. He closed his eyes as he swirled his tongue around the two digits, coating Geoff’s fingers in saliva. He’d let Geoff use the real lube if he was struggling, but he wanted to see Geoff fuck himself with the only help coming from Ryan.

Geoff pulled his fingers out when he figured Ryan had done enough, a small trail of spit forming between Ryan’s swollen lips and Geoff’s fingers, a small detail that turned Geoff on. Leaning back on his shoulders between Ryan’s spread legs, he inserted a finger into himself, biting his lip as he did so. Ryan watched with adoration as Geoff inserted the second finger and squeezed a small amount of lube into the palm of his hand before starting to gently pull himself off. Geoff loved the fact that putting on a show would turn Ryan into a sensitive mess and Ryan loved the way Geoff bounced up and down on his own fingers, the way his face contorted and a strangled moan came from his lips as his fingers brushed his prostate.

Ryan kept his strokes up with the pace that Geoff set on himself, and soon felt his legs getting fizzy, heat pooling up in the pit of his stomach. He smirked.

“Geoff… you want me to come? You want me to come for you?”

“No, God, no,” Geoff moaned, still bouncing, “I need you to fuck me.”

“Are you ready for me?” Ryan asked, a soft tone to his voice.

Geoff nodded and looked to Ryan for permission to stop fucking himself. Ryan bit his lip and nodded as Geoff sorted himself out. Ryan, his cock coated in slick lube and precum didn’t reach back for the lube – he would, of course, if Geoff asked, but he felt like something a bit rougher than usual and by the filthy expression on Geoff’s face, so did he.

“You want me to fuck you, baby?”

Geoff groaned as Ryan angled his cock while Geoff positioned himself above Ryan, feeling every heartbeat rattle his sensitive body as he lowered himself down, taking Ryan in, Ryan’s hips coming up to meet him.

It was not as smooth as usual but Geoff loved the feeling of being filled, of being stretched. Ryan bottomed out as Geoff sunk down onto him, to two of them being a perfect fit for each other. Ryan placed his hands on Geoff’s hips and started to guide his motions. He slowly lifted Geoff up, almost to the point of pulling out before slamming the man down onto his cock, filling him entirely in one fell swoop, causing Geoff to cry aloud and yell Ryan’s name.

After a few minutes of Ryan helping Geoff learn the motions, Geoff began to drive himself, lifting himself up before coming down on Ryan’s dick and filling himself up again. Ryan kept a hand on Geoff’s hip as he started to thrust up into Geoff, causing Geoff’s face to display the most delicious expression.

Before long it turned into a hard fucking session, the bare, raw noise of skin slapping on skin, punctuated with Ryan’s grunting on each thrust and Geoff’s gasping as Ryan dug his nails into Geoff’s shoulder. Ryan was usually pretty quiet during sex, but this time it felt different, he felt the need to vocalise, if only in small grunts and muttering “fuck”, almost as if to let Geoff know who exactly he was fucking, who’s dick he was currently bouncing up and down on.

Ryan used both hands to slam Geoff down onto his cock as he came, moaning Geoff’s name as he did so, spilling into Geoff. Geoff rode him through his orgasm, coming to a climax himself as he felt the warmth from Ryan spread through him. He collapsed on top of Ryan after he’d come, not caring that there was a sticky layer of sweat and come between them, his ass sore and red, his legs like jelly.

Ryan laughed through deep breaths.

“Holy fuck,” he said, his voice hoarse. “For an old man you’ve really got some energy.”

Geoff slapped him on the shoulder. “At least I’m not a wanted criminal.”

For a split second, they returned to the brutal reality, the worst case scenario where they would be separated by police vans and a firing squad. But as they lay there, and Geoff, in particular, came to terms with the information he’d been given, he decided not to care. He’d fallen in love with Ryan Haywood, not The Reaper.

Ryan, his arm slung around his lover, considered himself very lucky not only to have a partner, but a partner who could forget his dubious past with the drop of the hat. He’d have a few loose ends to tie up, sure, but for now, all he cared about was the sweaty, giggling mess in his arms, that was lazily kissing at any skin he could reach.

After a while the two of them detangled themselves to clean up before sinking back into bed. It was 4am by the time they’d settled again. Knowing he was going to be tired and sore in the morning, Geoff fired off a quick email to his students telling him that tomorrow was cancelled as he was sick. He’d not pulled a sick day for a while, but pulling a sickie was easy when he could spend all day in bed with Ryan instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those middle aged horny boyfriends. What would they do without each other? <3  
> Again, thank you for your feedback and kudos and I would love to hear more if you have anything to say! <3


	13. The Chapter Where Ray Worries

****

A few days later, the only negative feeling that really cropped up on Geoff was the feeling that maybe he should have been a little disturbed by the fact that his boyfriend was a serial killer, but he wasn’t too bothered.

Now that he knew, it made sense that he sometimes used a handheld drill rather than a corkscrew to open wine. He’d once used a blowtorch as a lighter, and although that wasn’t stereotypical serial killer behaviour, it played into Geoff’s imaginary recreation of Ryan’s past. He found himself secretly thrilled with Ryan’s past, and who he really was. It was exciting.

Geoff felt a little ashamed of himself when he realised that thinking of Ryan as the tough, intimidating, strong criminal he used to be turned him on rather a lot.

He tried not to think about Ryan pinning him up against the wall, chest pressed against the hard surface, Ryan’s ragged growling in his ear, the smooth, cool metal of the barrel of a gun pressed against his temple. Ryan would be talking dirty in his ear and Geoff would fall apart underneath him as he handed over his self control over to Ryan. He knew that Ryan would never pull the trigger but even the slightest chance of it happening thrilled Geoff, would cause him to bite his lip and moan absentmindedly as Ryan would reach around and start palming Geoff through his jeans, making him even weaker at the knees. With each imagining of the situation, it developed – Ryan would pin him to the bed – then tie him with belts – then with rope – and so on. The fantasies awakened some dark curiosity within him, a curiosity he wanted to explore with Ryan at the helm.

He tried not to let himself get involved in these fantasies at work, but they played on his mind so often that it became hard to block them out. His coworkers and students would question, but figure out, the smirk or the dumb smile on his face, knowing, but never saying, that Mr Ramsey was finally getting laid.

***

Michael, on the other hand, was over the initial humiliation and was now stewing in his own rage. How dare that guy treat him like that? Looking back, the dude was probably just trying to be intimidating. Trying to empathise with young people, like most older people did these days to try and stay in touch with their long gone youth. Michael wanted to spit in his face and show him exactly what he was capable of. He’d go full Reaper on the guy. At first, when planning the break in, he questioned whether he’d want to kill, but for that rude son of a bitch? He’d fucking disembowel the freak. How dare he question Michael Jones, The Reaper v2. He’d show the world that he was a force to be reckoned with and in turn, leave that guy six feet under, a gaping hole in his neck from which Michael would fucking drain him dry.

Lindsay had explicitly stated that she would not get involved too much, but would support as best as she could from the sidelines. She’d agreed to be a getaway driver if it wasn’t too complex. She didn’t have a shitty job tying her down anymore, quitting under the false pretences that a relative had died and left her a rather large sum of money. Michael’s first kill, despite being all over the papers the next day, had been forgotten pretty quickly by the public eye, and the two of them slept perfectly well at night despite all that could have gone wrong.

***

Ray had heard all about the incident from the other night, and was aware that he and Jack were not the only people who knew about Ryan. Ray knew Geoff pretty well by now and knew the guy well enough that he wouldn’t go off squealing to the police. Even if he did, he knew that Ryan would sit there and take it, knowing that he’d never hurt a hair on Geoff’s head unless it was consensual. He’d noticed a change in Ryan since he and Geoff had become an item, noticing that he smiled more, wasn’t so withdrawn and was generally more up for having a good time. He welcomed the change, was starting to see Ryan as an actual human being rather than a mysterious shadow that always looked after him. Seeing Ryan as more of a person made him realise all that Ryan had done for him in one way or another.

When Ray had been asked to break the news to Gavin, he had his doubts. He was only just getting used to emotionally-weighted talking, and that was to do with liking, not confessing to knowing and covering up for a murderer.

“If you suspect he’s going to tell the police, or go public with his theory, that’s when you tell him,” Ryan had told him. “Not just yet – at the moment they’re just suspicions. I mean, they’re true, but he doesn’t know that yet. I don’t want to shove this responsibility onto you, but you’re currently the one he has the most trust in. I don’t want to threaten me, and Geoff knows the kid too well.”

“But what if I lose him?” Ray had nearly yelled down the phone. “I’m not like, a neutral party here, man, I’m involved with Gav too? If I tell him, he might freak out on me, leave me or even worse, stay with me out of fear.”

“Which is why, as soon as you think he’s going to go public somehow with his information, then you let me and Geoff know and we can think of a way to get around it. I don’t want you guys to split because of this. We’re all part of letting him know, you’re just the most suitable messenger.”

Furious after the call, but having accepted the job anyway, he got in touch with Jack and spilled everything to him. Jack, despite being a crazily talented illegal technician, was surprisingly good to talk to. He always listened and never tried to be too objective – always gave his opinion but never discounted a differing view.

“I could be there when you do it, alongside you and Geoff and Ryan,” Jack suggested. “But that might give the impression that we’re literally ganging up on him.”

Ray groaned. “I know. I get what Ryan meant though, I am the best person to do this. He’d take the news terribly from anyone else, at least with me he might just take it badly.”

“It’s a shitty situation. We can hope that Gavin’s a decent guy and won’t go public with it. Then we won’t even have to deal with it.”

“Oh come on, Jack, the kid’s a crime journalist, if he gets the story on the Reaper, it’ll sell like hotcakes and he’ll have enough to sit pretty for the rest of his life without ever having to lift a finger. He’d go down in history as the journalist who found the notorious Reaper and handed him over – he’ll write bestselling books about the guy. He’ll be a fucking national treasure.”

“But he’d be trading you, and his relationship with you, for all of that. He’d also be putting Geoff in a pretty shit situation too. He wouldn’t do that.”

“I don’t know, man,” Ray said, sighing. “I really do not know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suspense, building buiLDING BUILDING!  
> (hugs and kisses)


	14. The Chapter Where Jack Informs

A few weeks later, Ryan returned to his home after grocery shopping to find a sealed manila envelope lying on his hall floor. Signed with a drawn butterfly on the bottom right hand corner, Ryan knew it was from Jack. By now it had been almost a year since he’d last committed a crime, so it had been a long time since one of those envelopes had been of any interest. Closing the door softly behind him before quickly scoping out his place, he sat down at a table, put his driving gloves back on, and opened the envelope gently, making sure not to make any swift movements. Someone could have easily replicated Jack’s signature and sent him a mail bomb. Or anthrax, or something equally as scary.

He slid the documents out onto the table and inspected the inside of the envelope before examining the paper on the table. It was clear. A UV torch he had attached to his keyring (which he now kept with him at all times now that he didn’t need to hide anything from Geoff) showed no suspicious traces of anything as he waved it over the documents and the envelope. Happy it was from Jack, he proceeded.

Attached to the top of the pile was a yellow post-it note, with Jack’s unmistakable handwriting scrawled on it.

_Call me when you’re done reading this if you want this guy out. We can sort something._

He examined the top sheet which contained information on the individual pictured, the picture in question being a surveillance shot from the last week. The guy clearly didn’t have a rap sheet – this was obvious due to the lack of mugshot – which is what Jack always used if it was available. The information was on a kid named Michael Vincent Jones. He was 27, had been married for close to a year now, an electrician by trade but worked in a hardware store due to the lack of business opportunity for a young, independent electrician. His wife, Lindsay was formerly a hospital security guard who had quit over a month ago due to coming into a substantial amount of money. The first thing that struck Ryan as odd, was that Michael himself was still working while Lindsay lived the life of luxury. Immediately Ryan knew why Jack was pointing this guy out to him. Ryan recognised the shape of the face, the scared, shifty eyes and the build – this was the person who had broken into his house.

Generally when people came into a large amount of money then it meant a few things – that the people in question could reduce, but not quit, their working hours – that they were given enough to retire completely – or that they had come into the money through dubious means, thinking that if one of them were to continue to work full time then that would not come across as suspicious. This meant that Michael – or Lindsay, he couldn’t rule that out as a possibility – had recently come into money thanks to illegal means. He assumed it was Michael just due to the fact that it had been him to break into the house – but he couldn’t rule out Lindsay just yet.

The next sheet was a sheet of recent surveillance stills from ATMs and the security feed at the store he worked at. From the images, Ryan definitely had been able to put a face to the figure that broke his windows. He looked a little angry, from what he could tell, perpetually angry, one of those people who never looked happy while out and about unless they were given a reason to be happy about. Of course he could still be pissed off about the talking to Ryan had given him – Ryan knew he was an intimidating guy when he wanted to be. He could leave an impact.

The following sheet showed his recent bank transactions. Jack, being brilliant at his job had paperclipped another, smaller piece of paper to that one. Every few weeks, Michael’s main bank account received a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. What Jack had put on the smaller paper was that the bank account transferring the money had been created only a couple months ago. The first initial payment was a couple of hundred dollars, the next payment however had been a very, very large sum of money indeed. A few million. And then, since that payment, a thousand was put into the bank account as a cash transfer every few days.

 _I can’t be bothered to print out the whole trail,_ Jack had written on the attached paper, _but a bit of sleuthing shows that the millions payment  was a transfer from one of Weston’s right hand men that went missing “under mysterious circumstances” a few weeks ago. From that bank account, a large amount of cash was withdrawn. All signs point to that cash being the in payment that is being made every few days into Jones’ bank account. Therefore all signs point to him being the dude who made the guy disappear. Sound like a familiar case?_

It did. Ryan’s first hit had been someone pretty high up the ranks in the inner workings of Merryweather. Remembering the details of the crime, they almost matched his own methods perfectly.

Suddenly it hit Ryan. Ryan’s second big take had been from robbing a house that lived in the upper class suburbs. Thinking about it, it was a house not too far away from where he lived himself now.

He had a copycat.

The next and final sheets confirmed his suspicions. It was a list of his browser history from the last six months, with a note from Jack scribbled on the front saying that he should only be interested in the highlighted ones.

Every so often a block of highlighted links showed up on the lists, in blocks of tens and twenties.

And they were all links to do with the Reaper.

A chill went down Ryan’s spine. This guy was thirsty for information about him – he wanted to be him. Ryan never anticipated this situation. Should he feel flattered? Scared? Like he ought to take Michael under his wing?

All in all, he felt a little creeped out, and a more than a little defensive.

He was the Reaper. He had created that legacy and was now reaping the rewards, pardoning the pun. Who was this Jones kid to try and highjack that name, to try and go straight to the top by jumping onto Ryan’s bandwagon.

He wanted the kid gone. Sure he was a little freaked out that he’d reacted like this, so defensively, but he knew now that he had too much to lose if he went down that path again. He had Geoff. Geoff was too important to lose thanks to just falling into old habits to teach some punk a lesson.

But the kid had to go. Maybe not in the most extreme sense. Maybe he didn’t need to kill Michael. Just scare him out of the city, out of the country even. By all means he didn’t care if Michael continued to commit crime. He just had one condition – that the kid stop copying his crimes.

He debated about whether to tell Geoff about the developments. He didn’t want to drag Geoff into his previous life, but he didn’t want to hide anything either. The reaction to Geoff finding out he’d been dabbling in previous habits behind his back would probably be worse than telling Geoff right off the bat and not hiding anything.

Ryan rubbed his eyes. He was too old and retired for this shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will get more exciting soon! I'm just trying to build the atmosphere c:  
> again, thank you all for the comments and kudos <3


	15. The Chapter Where Ryan Watches

Ryan and Geoff sat on top of a hill, passing a pair of binoculars between them.

“So that’s the guy who broke into our house?” Geoff asked, passing them back to Ryan, not really sure how to look like he knew what he was doing.

“Sure is,” Ryan muttered.

“And he’s trying to be you?” Geoff asked again.

“He is.” Ryan confirmed. “And I’m not going to stand for that.”

Geoff had insisted on knowing what Ryan was up to, out of curiosity and solidarity rather than pessimism and fear. Geoff saw it as Ryan having a business rival that he needed to outsmart to get ahead of rather than a rival murderer that he needed to take out. But when the thought about it properly, there wasn’t too much difference between the two.

Ryan was silent as he sat with the binoculars pressed to his face, his mouth squeezed shut in concentration.

There was something about the way Ryan was lying on the ground, pressed to it, like a snake, that seemed oddly attractive to Geoff. How he was propped up on his elbows, showing off the muscles in his arms that Geoff loved to touch. He felt giddy. He, Geoff Ramsey, had landed himself a fine piece of ass.

They’d been there all day and it had only been in the last hour that Michael, the guy who was trying to one-up Ryan had come home. They’d been observing his wife, Lindsay for the most part of the day, just to see if she was actively involved or just a not-so-innocent bystander, as Geoff was to Ryan. Jack had bugged the house out and was listening from a separate location. They’d agreed to meet up the next day to compare what they’d seen against what was heard.

“So she stays in to enjoy the money and then he’s keeping his job for the sake of appearances?” Geoff asked. He felt a little dumb asking Ryan so many questions, but he wasn’t well versed in criminality.

“It’s a move people make to hide their tracks, yeah. Usually people don’t brag about having money unless they’ve won the lottery or something. If the both of them quit their job, sooner or later someone will notice. Like their landlord, for example. One day he’ll wonder how they can keep up payments, because he’ll notice that they don’t work anymore. That raises suspicion. I knew a guy who got banged up because he made the mistake on resting on his laurels. Little did he realise that if he flashed his cash at the bar he quit his job from, his ex-coworkers would find that a little suspicious.”

Hearing Ryan talk about his previous life was fascinating to Geoff. With that knowledge, Geoff saw experience beyond Ryan’s years in the bags under his eyes. Suddenly the little scars weren’t just from “various accidents” as Ryan had first put it. They had stories behind them. Geoff loved lying in bed with Ryan and asking about this scar here, how did that happen Ry? And Ryan would explain that was one of his first war wounds from a scrap when he was just a teenager and the other kid bit him. Ryan hadn’t been secretive before he’d been exposed for what he was, but he seemed even more open than before.

“They look like they’re settling in for the night.” Ryan said, taking the binoculars from his face, small black rings around his eyes. He’d explained that the last time he used them, he wore his facepaint, which he wore under his mask to be extra sure that no one would recognise him. There was probably some trace of paint around the rubber rims.

Geoff laughed. “You look like a racoon.”

Ryan blushed and put the binoculars to one side. He pulled Geoff closer to him with those arms that Geoff so admired, and smiled at him before kissing him firmly. The sun was starting to go down, basking the hill in a pink-gold glow that made everything seem idyllic.

“I’m glad you came with me,” Ryan sighed, head resting on Geoff’s shoulder. “This shit can get real boring if you’ve got no one to talk to.”

“I’m glad I came,” Geoff replied. “Because I got to look at you and your ass all day and that is a day well spent.”

“My ass?” Ryan asked, laughing a little. “You eyeing me up, Ramsey?”

“Well, y’know,” Geoff said, a defensive tone to his voice, “you’re lying there all flat like a spy and then your ass is just there, y’know? I think you have a fantastic ass anyway and today it’s just been like, accentuated by your flatness. I dunno man, you’ve just got a fantastic butt.”

Ryan laughed. “Thanks. Your ass is quite something, too, if that’s anything.”

“Oh yeah, like I didn’t know that, the way you growl “oh Geoff, let me have a go on your ass,” when you’re all worked up.”

Ryan smirked.

“You address me like that again, mister, I might just have to punish you a little.”

Had Geoff not given this as much thought as he recently had done, he would have laughed off the phrase. Now, his stomach knotted a little bit, and he felt a lot more awake.

“You gonna spank me or something?” Geoff asked, his voice quiet.

“I could do,” Ryan replied, his voice quiet too but with a contemplative air. “I was thinking about fucking your ass red raw while pinning you up against that tree, but spanking works too.”

Geoff had a real thing for dirty talk. He unknowingly moaned as Ryan spoke. Ryan bit his lip. He stood up, and Geoff followed as Ryan walked towards a tree a little further in the distance.

“I’m thinking both.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the short update, especially so long after the last one. I've been working myself into the ground so my spare time have been either catching up on sleep or having a cold. I also wrote a short Freewood fic (fingertips & holy fire) which if you like taboo sex then you should check out.  
>  But today, basically I wanted to write (not so subtle) needy Geoff and here I am.  
> I appreciate your feedback, and again, sorry for the long wait <3

**Author's Note:**

> I've been playing a hell of a lot of GTAV yet and also I like the idea of super friendly neighbour Geoff and slightly awkward but pleasant enough Ryan! Eventual Ramwood, probably (I seriously cannot get enough of that pairing). And because I'm a loser for song title fic titles, the song is American Trash by Innerpartysystem. Worth a listen to, and sort of gave me the idea for this fic!  
> I hope you liked reading it and I would love to see your comments and feedback should you have any :) <3


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